


In the Company of Monsters

by ThisWasInevitable



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Biting, Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing, Flirting, Forced Orgasm, Human/Monster Romance, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rating will change, Reader request, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, TAZ-Amnesty, Teratophilia, Trans Stern, background danbrey, background sternclay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-01-31 13:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 44,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: The town of Kepler must make sacrifices. It must keep the monsters in the mountains happy.Duck Newton knows all to well what happens to those the town deems too much trouble, or too immoral. But then a strange, silver-haired man walks into his life.And opens up a whole new world of danger, magic, and romance.(This is based on the "Monsters" prompt fill I wrote, which was the big winner in a poll when I asked readers what fills they wanted to see extended or continued. If you've read the fill, you'll still want to start from the beginning because I've changed some things and am going into much more detail).
Relationships: Aubrey Little & Duck Newton, Indrid Cold/Duck Newton
Comments: 35
Kudos: 145





	1. Like in Fairytales of Old

The trouble begins, as trouble so often does, with a handsome stranger, a secret meeting, and an attempt to do the right thing. 

More specifically, it begins the first morning of the Star Blossom festival, when Duck Newton turns around to find his first customer of the day.

“Good morning.” The man grins at him, silver hair glinting in the April sun like minnow scales in a clear stream.

“Mornin, what can I get you?” 

The stranger regards the menu posted on the front of the stand, adjusting his red glasses as he does. Duck eyes the spectacles; usually an accessory that odd means a person is wealthy. But the mans' clothes are plain, a little loose, making him charmingly disheveled. 

“May I get the starshine surprise?”

“Uhhhh, sure.” Duck turns around, begins scooping fruit, cream, and brightly colored syrups into a bowl. In all his years of working the stand, he’s never had someone order one of the desserts so early. 

“Here you go.” Duck presents the dish to the stranger, watches his eyes widen behind the red lenses. The man hands Duck three large coins, settles at a nearby table and proceeds to eat with such gusto that Duck’s certain he hasn’t eaten in days. 

He turns back, continues washing and chopping fruit.

“I’m surprised you aren’t busier.” The man wipes a smear of cream from his face.

“First few day of the festival is usually pretty slow, and most folks don’t come to us until it gets warmer, or until after dinner.”

“I suppose this is all rather sweet.”

“Yep, though some folks come because buyin their dessert from us makes ‘em feel high and mighty.”

The stranger cocks his head, “but that’s one of the most indulgent things I’ve ever eaten, which is saying something.”

“Yeah, but it’s got fruit, means it’s healthy” he says dryly and and the man smiles, “and they can stay on their high horses while stuffin' their faces.”

“It seems silly to make such a show of not indulging ones desires.”

“Welcome to Kepler.” Duck mutters. He goes back to his work, gets lost in the steady rhythm of his usual movements. 

A wooden thunk makes him turn. The stranger stands at the counter, empty bowl in front of him.

“What do you like best here?”

“The tri-color. Not as fancy, but I’m real fond of it.”

“I would like one of those.” he holds out double the correct amount of coins, “and I would like you to make one for yourself.”

“Oh, uh, that’s nice of you, but I ain’t, uh, fuck, I ain’t, not hungry, fuck.”

“.....Am I correct that you just attempted to lie?”

“Yeah.” Duck looks away, bracing himself to be scolded about lying.

Instead, he gets a soft, chirping laugh and, “How very ineffective. Now, will you please allow me to do something kind for you?”

Duck returns the smile sent his way, and prepares two more bowls of food. Sets one down before the guest, keeps the other by his work station. 

“Mmmmm” the stranger hums after he takes a bite, “you have excellent taste.”

“Thanks.”

“I may just have to stay here all day, it’s so pleasant.”

“Careful, do that and I may just put you-”

“-to work.” The other man finishes the sentence along with him, shrugs, “if I can assist you, and you do not mind my company, I’d be glad to.”

“I can’t pay you-”

The man holds up a hand, stopping him, “You don’t have to.”

“Right, uh” he gathers two bags, one of sunfruit and one of strawberries, and sets them on the table along with two paring knives and two bowls, “here, help me break these down.”

The stranger picks up a knife, watches Duck closely as he demonstrates how to peel the sunfruit. Takes one of his own and begins, rather clumsily, to do the same.

“Apologies, I usually do this with, ah, a different tool.”

“Huh.” Duck keeps his hands busy, steals glances at his new assistant. Finds a smile gracing his face as he watches the taller man chew his lip in concentration, as if he’s embroidering a tapestry rather than peeling fruit. 

“So, uh, you in town for the festival?”

“Indeed. I was passing through this way and decided I couldn’t miss the celebration. It sounds like it has much to offer. Do you enjoy it?”

“Kinda loses it’s luster as you get older and see it year after year. But there are parts I still like.”

The stranger looks at him expectantly.

“I like watchin the blossoms all burst open, like how so many things bloom at the same time, makin the air smell like heaven. And I like how much my little sister still loves the festival and games and runnin around with blue ribbons tied all over her. Used to like the dances too but, uh” he swallows, turns his minds eye away from the memories, “not as much now.”

“I see. Well then, I will stay until the last day, so I can see the blossoms open.” He pops a strawberry into his mouth, gives a sheepish smile when Duck raises an eyebrow.

“Careful, that’ll come outta your pay.”

“Given the amount of said pay, I am willing to take such a risk.” He teases back.

They have another hour of uninterrupted chatter, until two councilmen arrive, white rose pins shining, and order from Duck while looking down their noses.

After they depart, the stranger looks at him, “they didn’t pay in full.”

“White Roses never do.”

The stranger makes a disapproval tinged noise of understanding.

As more visitors trickle into town, the two of them get less time to talk. But unlike many of the travelers Duck’s met, the stranger is less interested in boasting about his adventures and more interested in asking Duck about his life in Kepler. 

Between the uptick in customers and the pleasant company, closing time comes as a surprise. 

“Thanks for all your help. And, uh, for keepin me company. Know there were probably lots of other things you wanted to see.” He shutters the front of the stand.

“On the contrary, I can’t think of a better way to spend my first day here.”

Duck isn’t sure what to say, settles for waving as the stranger nods and turns towards the outskirts of town.

“Wait! You never told me your name. You don’t gotta if you don’t want to but I’d like to be able to-”

“-Find me again. Of course. My name is Indrid. And it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Duck Newton.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Hello again.”

Duck looks up from the stack of bowls he’s washing to find Indrid leaning across the counter, smiling at him. 

“Hey. What can I get you?”

“Surprise me. And do not attempt to give me change” He holds out a large silver piece and Duck takes it. He scoops rose cream, honeysuckle syrup, strawberries, and raspberries into a bowl and, on a whim, tosses a handful of pink mallow petals on top. 

“Here you go.”

“Oooooh” Indrid claps his hands together, then glances at the menu.

“You made me a Lovers Delight?”

“Yep.” Duck nods, belatedly realizes the source of the amused look on Indrid’s face, and scrambles for a subject change, “glad to see you again. Sorry I can’t talk as much, gettin busy since the first dance is tonight.”

“I’m glad you mentioned that. I was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me to it. I’ve found I make less of a fool of myself at such things when I go with someone who knows the steps.”

“Well…” Duck thinks about how bright and wonderful the town square will look. The fact that his parents give him the nights of the dances off, as encouragement to meet an eligible young woman ("you're twenty-five, son, time's a tickin"). And the fact that the thought of sitting in the distance, watching the party from the mourning darkness, sounds miserable.

“Sure, be happy to come with you. Just don’t expect too much, doubt I’m any better at the dances than you are.”

“I look forward to finding out if your two left feet are worse than my own.” Indrid beams, slips out into the throng as another clump of customers crowd the booth. 

Duck counts the hours, nearly vaults over the counter when Indrid appears at twilight. His new friend has traded his long, white shirt for a blue one and pinned a sprig of silverweed blossoms to his chest.

“Shall we?” He gestures for Duck to lead the way, listens attentively as Duck talks about his day.

“Then this fella says….” Duck drifts off as they cross the path of a dark wood statue. The figure has many faces, all lined with sharp teeth, and a multitude of clawed hands, as if the carver tried to cram as many nightmares into it as possible. 

“Duck?” Indrid follows his gaze to the carving, “what is that?”

“It’s the monsters. Y’know, the ones that live in the blue-cap mountains?”

Indrid shakes his head. 

“There’s a whole hoard of ‘em, and every town has to uh, to sacrifice folks now and then to keep them from attackin the towns.”

“How terrible.”

“Yeah.” Duck runs a hand through his hair, looks up at the sky.

“You knew someone who was sacrificed, didn’t you?” Indrid steps closer, his voice gentle. 

Duck nods, “friend of mine, two towns over. Two months ago. Way I understand it, someone caught him bindin his chest down. White Roses didn’t take to kindly to that.”

“I’m sorry.” Indrid touches his shoulder.

“Me too. After that happened, one of my friends here just skipped town in the dead of night with her girlfriend. Told me there was no way in hell she was stickin around to be eaten. Ain’t had so much as a word from her since. Don’t feel real, bein at the festival without them.”

Cool fingers close around his own, Indrid gingerly turning him away from the statue.

“Duck, if going to this will only upset you, we do not have to go.”

He shakes his head, “nah, no point in dwellin on it.” He can’t say more, knows it would become an obvious lie. 

Their hands stay linked as they wander the dark side-streets, Duck reluctantly dropping the grip when they step into the square. Blue and white lanterns sparkle, and laughing couples whirl past them. 

Indrid watches the dancers before matter-of-factly stating, “I am going to fall flat on my face.”

“Hey, maybe you’ll be great.” Duck offers his hands and Indrid takes them. They start off to the side of the main dance, Duck counting and carefully leading Indrid through the steps as they practice.

“Wanna try faster?”

“Very well, ah, oh, sorry”

“Ow! S’okay, now try turnin, yeah, now you’re getting the hang of it.”

“Hah! This is rather funohdear”

Indrid tumbles to the ground with such perfect, slapstick timing that Duck doubles over laughing even as he helps him up. Indrid shakes with strange, chirping giggles, resting his forehead on Ducks shoulder. 

“See? Flat on my face.”

“That weren’t your face.”

“My point stands.”

“C’mon, let’s try it with the others.”

“Really? After I demonstrated I am a menace to proper dancing?”

“Yep. Besides, if we both go down we could take out the whole floor, and that’d be a sight.”

They find an open space in a circle of the other dancers. The fiddle and drums begin and Indrid tightens his grip.

“If I injure myself, you owe me free food for the rest of my life.”

“Deal” Duck grins at him as they begin spinning in time with the music, the steps simple enough that he can watch Indrid’s face instead of his own feet. Indrid is dancing remarkably well, grinning wide whenever he successfully completes a step.

“Ready to trade?” Duck yells over the music.

“Trade?”

“Yep! I’m gonna spin, you’re gonna go to the left and I'm gonna grab someone from my right. Dance ends when we make it back together.”

“Wait, goodness, okay, I didn’t realize-” Indrid squeaks as Duck spins him into the arms of the dancer next to them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you.” He winks as he starts with his new partner, dances while keeping an eye on Indrid until his friend Juno grabs his hands.

“You tryin to be monster food?” She whispers.

“Uh, no?”

“Duck, you can’t keep dancin with that fella.”

“I ain’t the only one.”

“Yeah, sometimes two men dance together, but you ain’t taken your hands off him since you got here.”

“He’s a friend, and I’m just bein polite. And-aw, c'mon Juno, don’t you give me that look.”

“Duck, you got stars in your eyes lookin at him. Just” she moves into the final spin, “be careful.”

As he moves through the next two rounds, Duck notices at least two White Roses glancing his way and his heart tightens with worry.

Then he forgets about them entirely as Indrid spins into his arms, strange and radiant. The music slows in the final turns, both of them panting and smiling as it comes to an end.

“Well, that was certainly a thrill.” Indrid leans against him as they leave the floor and walk towards the large barrels of sweet cider. Duck pours himself a glass, gets Indrid water when he declines the drink.

“Would you like to dance again, once we catch our breath?” Indrid’s close enough that Duck can see his eyes glitter with excitement behind his glasses.

“Yeah” he murmurs, pulling back when two women with white roses embroidered on their dresses walk by, “but, uh, we oughta switch up partners for a bit.”

\---------------------------------------------------

He dances every remaining dance with Indrid, trips over his feet when Indrid tilts his head back, flushed and laughing and some well-worn joke Duck whispered in his ear. 

It’s dangerous, he knows it, but every time he takes Indrids hand, each time he smiles or laughs, he watches the other man light up like the morning sun. He can’t remember the last time he made someone this happy. It’s intoxicating. 

He walks Indrid to one of the traveler camps under the dim light of the crescent moon, regaling him with the tale of how he once hand-raised three phoenix chicks he found in abandoned nest. 

Indrid stops at the fields, squeezes Ducks hands, “I had a wonderful time Duck. Thank you for teaching me and keeping me company.”

“Any time. I’m really enjoyin gettin to know you. You’re gonna be here tomorrow right?”

“Indeed. I plan to work most of the day to earn a few coins, but you can find me here.”

“Might just pay you a visit, then.” 

Indrid smiles, and maybe it’s the moonlight, but it looks a little shy, “Goodnight, Duck.”

“Night, Indrid.”

As he walks the empty road back into town, owls calling and nighthawks flitting past his head, he gets the sense Indrid is watching him go. 

He hits the southern entrance of town, stops to regard the iron statue, coated in white gold, of a rose. Inscribed on it’s petals are the words, “Purity, Morality, Obedience.”

Glancing around and finding no one there, he leans close to the statue and whispers, “you ain’t stoppin me this time, you lousy fuckers. You ain't taken this from me too.”


	2. Honey on My Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid makes some predictions. Duck turns on the charm.

White sparrows call in the morning light, and Duck whistles back at them as he walks purposefully down the path to the travelers' camp. 

It doesn’t take him long to find Indrid, seated on a blanket with a deck of cards, scrying stones, and a tea-cup. A young woman sits in front of him, listening intently as he regards the three cards before him.

“And you will meet a tall, handsome stranger-”

“My true love!”

“No, in fact I’d advise you to stay away from him if you wish to continue living.” He replies mildly. 

Duck leans against a nearby tree, waiting for the young woman to leave. When she finally scurries off, he settles on the blanket in her place as Indrid concentrates on reshuffling his cards. 

“Hello, Duck.” He smiles without looking up.

“Didn’t realize you were a fortune teller.”

“Of a sort. Cards, scrying, palm reading, it all comes very easily to me. Festivals are an excellent time to practice it, as people are often in a mood to try anything that seems novel.”

“Never had much of a need for it. Pretty sure I know my future.”

“Is that so?” Indrid arches an eyebrow, “let me see your hand.”

Normally, Duck would scoff and wave off the attempt. But, normally, it isn’t his strangely handsome friend offering to hold his hand. 

He holds out his right hand and Indrid takes it gently, turning it so he can look at the palm. The touch is light, but Duck has to will his fingers not to shake. He shudders happily when Indrid runs the nail of his index finger at the center of his palm. 

“Now….” Indrid closes his eyes, continues drawing his finger back and forth, “it’s true the lines here show me what is easily seen by anyone with eyes; that you’re good hearted, brave, fond of the natural world.”

“Uh huh” Duck is barely listening, studying the lines of Indrids face.

“You will, however, soon face a great change. And you will have the chance to accept a great destiny.”

“Don’t” Duck looks over his shoulder, “don’t you start on that too.”

“Oh?” Indrid loosens his grip, but Duck doesn’t take the chance to pull away.

“When I was born, it matched up with the date in a prophecy when someone who was supposed to be a great hero for Kepler was gonna be born. And I matched the description of the ‘child with two different eyes’ or some shit’” he points at his eyes, one brown and one blue, “Soon as I turned 16, folks started houndin me about my destiny, about how I was gonna do great things, ignorin me when I said I wanted to do somethin else. Been dodgin that damn destiny thing for nearly ten years.”

“Interesting” Indrid murmurs.

“You see anythin else?”

“I see...oh dear.”

“Don’t like the sound of that.”

Indrid smiles, eyes still shut, before his expression sobers, “Very soon, you are going to face something difficult. Something frightening, saddening. Duck” his voice changes, no longer detached and instead urgent, “you must be brave. No matter what happens. Promise me you will try to be brave.”

He opens his eyes, and it’s only then Duck sees they’ve both been leaning forward. 

“I promise.” 

Indrids' gaze darts to Ducks lips, then quickly down to his still-held hand. He bows his head, kisses Duck’s palm lightly. Does it again when Duck inhales in sharp, delighted surprise. 

“You, uh, you doin anythin tonight?” Duck blurts out, voice climbing higher than he’d like it too. 

“I sense I may be about to be.” Indrid smirks sweetly. 

“Meet me at the stand at closin time?”

Indrid releases his hand, “of course.”

\-------------------------------------------------

Indrid is waiting for him when he steps out the back door of the stand. Seems unsurprised when Duck turns them away from the town square and towards the woods, laughter and fast music pattering against their backs. 

“Thought I might show you the orchards. They’re real pretty this time of year.”

“That sounds lovely OOH what was that?”

“Glow bats. They come around when the star blossoms are gonna open, since they drink the nectar.”

Safe in the dark trees, Duck offers Indrid his arm, and the taller man takes it instantly.

“Oh hello!” Indrid chirps, “who is this little one?”

Duck glances over to find a large, shimmering blue moth resting on Indrids hand.

“Eclipse moth. Damn, never seen one that close before.” 

As they weave through the rows of apple and sunfruit trees, Indrid whispering delightedly whenever Duck shows him a new creature or plant, Duck turns them towards the far end of the orchard, where the kempt foliage gives way to the wild tangle of the woods. 

“You wanna sit for a bit?”

Indrid nods, and they sit down beneath a silver oak, not even a hairs worth of space between them. 

“This might be my favorite spot in the whole town.” Duck sighs, counting the stars peeking through the trees. 

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” 

“Can’t think of anyone I’d rather share it with.”

“Duck-”

“Lemme finish” He shifts so he’s facing Indrid, “I know we ain’t known we ain’t known each other long, but I ain’t felt this easy around someone in a long time. I guess what I’m tryin to say is that I’m real happy you stopped by that first day, and, uh I wanted to ask if there was any chance you’d consider stayin after the festival ends.”

Indrid cocks his head, and when he speaks it’s without his usual confidence, “you are that fond of me?” 

Duck cups his cheeks without another thought, Indrid already leaning in to meet him. Duck means for it to be a chaste gesture, an invitation, nothing more. But Indrids lips are honey-sweet, the sound he makes at the contact (a happy, light hum) a siren song and Duck falls forward, kissing him again with an ill-concealed moan. 

Indrid laughs, lets Ducks momentum guide them to the ground, side by side, looping his long limbs around Ducks back and legs as he kisses a line across his lips. Makes the same sound again when Duck whines, the fleeting pecks not nearly enough for him. 

“Indrid, please.”

“That is not an actionable request.” A teasing kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Please” He grabs the rims of the red glasses, Indrid freezing as he slides them up his forehead, “Please say you’ll stay.”

Deep brown eyes, tinged a glowing red by the starlight, take on a sad, fond expression.

“I wish I could. But the futures are so changeable.”

“Yeah, because we can change ‘em, goofus.”

A puffed out laugh, “I suppose that’s true. All the same, I cannot be sure whether I will be able to stay beyond two days more. And” his gaze goes far away, snaps back, “we cannot stay out here much longer. I believe your White Roses have people patrolling the woods in search of amorous couples.”

Duck buries an annoyed groan against Indrids' chest, heart filling with the kind of fear and desire that that breeds desperation. 

“Meet me here, tomorrow, at noon.”

He doesn’t say the reason, but one look at Indrids smile suggests the other man has already guessed it.

\-----------------------------------------

He’s fucked up. 

Indrid isn’t here and it’s already five minutes after noon. He came on too strong, or seemed too desperate, as if he'd fall for anyone rather than Indrid specifically. Damn him and damn-

“Hello, my sweet.” The voice lilts out from the shadows and it takes him a moment to spy Indrid, hidden in a stand of birches. 

“Hey, sugar.”

“Is that a commentary on my eating habits?” He grins, taking Ducks hand when he offers it. 

“More on the fact that you’re the sweetest thing I ever seen.”

“You’re quite the charmer, Duck Newton. Goodness knows I wouldn’t follow just anyone into the deep woods.”

“Lucky me.” He pulls Indrid into a kiss, but keeps it from lingering more than a few moments.

“Not here, we’re still too close to town. C’mon.”

He leads Indrid in an arc through the trees, both of their heads swiveling like weathervanes in a storm to be sure they aren’t followed.

“What happened here?” Indrid takes in the run-down farmhouse, overgrown garden, and worn barn.

“Used to be owned by a fella named Thacker. He got sacrificed years ago, not for doin anythin wrong, I think. No one wanted to take over for him as a steward of the woods. Well, except me and Juno. But no one would let us. So his place just went to pieces. Juno and I used to come out here more, to look at the notes and books he left behind. That’s the only reason I even know about it.”

“Thacker.” Indrid repeats, odd look on his face, as he follows Duck into the barn and up a wooden ladder into the hayloft.

“You know, I assumed the phrase ‘a roll in the hay’ was purely euphemistic.” 

“Believe me, sugar, if I had my way wouldn’t be any hay within a mile of where we were doin this.”

“Ah well, needs must.” Indrid pulls off his shirt, revealing a tan, rather lean chest.

“Damn, you ain’t shy at all are you.”

“My sense was we did not have time to be. Was I wrong?”

“Nope.” Duck yanks his shirt off, grabs Indrids shoulders and pushes him backwards. Indrids skin is cool beneath his hands, and he tries to map every inch of it as he clambers on top of him. Indrid purrs, dragging his fingers across Ducks chest and sides, wiggles his hips enticingly. 

“That’s ah, oh that’s quite nicemmm” He returns Ducks kiss eagerly, adding one of his odd chirps into the air when Duck grinds down on the front of his pants.

“Duck, this is, goodness I see why people like kissing so much.”

“Kiss you as much as you want, Indrid, fuck, do whatever you want, wanna make you feel amazin.”

Indrid arches against him and he growls with want. 

The man in his arms goes stiff.

“Indrid?”

“Oh no, oh no I got distracted, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry, sorry for-”

“Told you we’d find ‘em here.”

Duck sits bolt upright, Indrid following quickly. On the ground beneath them stand three men, all around Ducks age. And all wearing white rose pins proudly on their chests. Two look grimly satisfied, but the third is grinning. 

“Well, well, Duck Newton, always wondered if the rumors were true. Guess they are.”

“Run” Duck whispers, not looking away from the trio.

“Not a chance. I will not leave you here to face this alone. Besides, I’m not a citizen of Kepler. Or anywhere the White Rose grows.”

“That ain’t gonna stop them.”

Indrid balks, “What kind of utter nonsense?” 

“Go!” Duck herds him towards the window. For a moment, Indrid hesitates and Duck contemplates shoving him out it.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.

And then he’s gone. 

“You going to make us do this the hard way?”

“No, gods alive, gimme two seconds to get decent and I’ll join you.” He puts his shirt back on, resigned.

“Richards, you make sure that other one doesn’t get away.”

“Leave him be, he ain’t from around here.” Duck says calmly, half-way down the ladder.

Richards turns towards the door. 

“Don’t take another fuckin step.”

Richards takes another fucking step. 

“Damn it.” Duck sighs, then launches himself off the ladder, tackling the man to the ground. 

“OWfuck, get off you lousy-”

“Jameson, grab him.”

“Right, come one youFUCK, did you just fucking bite me?”

“Damn fuckin right.” Duck growls as Jameson pulls him off Richards.

“You two hold him. I’ll go get his little freak of a friend. Be a real nice success for us, getting rid of two deviants with one sacrifice.” The leader snickers in Ducks face.

_Crack_

The man howls, claps both hands over his nose, blood trickling through his fingers. Duck’s head rings, pain bristling where his forehead made contact. Bye the time they recover and wrangle him out to their horses, Indrid is long gone.

That, at least, is some consolation for his newly black eye and the retribution he knows is coming.   
\-------------------------------------------------------

Duck watches the star blossoms open from the window of his cell. A few of the trees are tall enough that they shimmer and shine above the rooftops of town. 

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be here. Only that they will wait to sentence him until after the last of the visitors leave town, so as not to dampen the festivities. 

Sacrifices aren’t always offered right after they’re caught. Indeed, he knows of several children of the towns wealthier members who have been caught in acts of deviance or otherwise been obvious candidates for sacrifice who have yet to be offered. 

But, given that he’s the only person in this area of the jail, odds are good he’s right at the head of the line.

Breaking the nose of a prominent White Rose and son of a town councilman probably didn’t help his case.

(He’d do it again, without hesitation). 

Maybe he’s being too pessimistic. He’s heard stories of people whose first transgression was forgiven. 

Wait, is this his first transgression? If they knew enough to send men to the barn when they saw him gone from work, what else do they know? 

Maybe, then, his family, or Juno, or his mentors in town will argue his case, or offer a bribe, or do something, anything to help him.

Surely, to someone, he must be worth saving. To someone, he must be worth the risk. 

The door swings open and, emboldened by that train of thought, he perks up. 

Four White Rose councilmen stand in the door, a row of guards behind them. 

“Duck Newton, are you prepared to receive your sentence.”

“Wait, I thought you weren’t gonna do that until after the festival.” He stands up.

“You misunderstood; we will not _carry out_ whatever sentence is given until after the festival has ended. But the sentence” the man opens a small book, “will be given now.”

“Now hold on a damn minute.”

The man levels him with a warning look and he pulls the remainder of his protest back.

“Duck Newton, you have been caught in an act of deviance. Kepler strives to maintain a city in which none of it’s pure-hearted, moral citizens need live in fear of sating the hunger of the monsters to keep our city safe. But because you have demonstrated you are not such a citizen…” the man looks too pleased, given the words that come from his mouth, “you will be sacrificed.”


	3. Face the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck faces his fears. A monster gets a gift.

_“No matter what happens. Promise me you will try to be brave.”_

He’s trying. For the sake of his promise to the silver-haired man he’ll never see again, he is refusing to show fear. 

It’s out of spite that he’s refusing to show deference. 

“Do you regret your actions?” One councilman asks as a guard finishes chaining Duck to a post at the mouth of a cave. 

“No. And I ain’t gonna. So quit fuckin askin.”

“Is that any way to speak to your elders?”

“When they’re feedin me to a fuckin monster? YES!”

The man sniffs, tartly, and rejoins the cluster of his peers. The councilmen, the head of the guard, and other important figures in town are seated on benches a safe distance from Duck. Other townspeople are standing in the trees, perched in the branches, sitting on rocks. 

He thought about running, earlier, but knows if he ran to Juno, he’d put her in danger. And if he fled town entirely, they’d sacrifice his sister in his place. 

Mercifully, it’s no longer required that the family of condemned watch the proceedings, so his parents and Jane are at home. Juno offered to come so he wasn’t alone, but he told her it would be worse to know one of the few friends he had left had to watch this happen. 

A guard rings a large, copper chime three times. 

Nothing happens. 

Duck has never been to a sacrifice. He has no idea how long he’ll have to sit here, chained with his heart trying to climb up his throat. 

Brave. He will be brave. 

A strange, trilling noise echoes from the cave.

Was it really only a week ago Indrid kissed him for the first time?

A pair of large, blood-red eyes glow in the darkness. They’re coming closer.

Is he really never going to see Jane again?

Growls joins the trills.

Is this really all the time he gets?

The creature steps into the sunlight, and his resolve to show no fear wavers. 

It must be seven feet tall, with dark, speckled wings and feathers coating its body. Antennae sprout from its head, mandibles frame its mouth, and each of it’s four arms end in clawed hands. It makes its way to him, odd high noises still skittering out of it. Behind him there’s the scuff of dirt and leaves as the onlookers back up in fear. 

He forces his face to stay neutral, forces his eyes to stay open even when the creature kneels before him. It looks him up and down, leans forward, opens a mouth with far too many teeth and draws its tongue in the air by Ducks cheek. Pulls back slightly, cocks its head, antenna twitching. 

Then it growls, lunges forward, and tears the chains as if they were nothing. He sucks in a breath, managing not to cry out in surprise. Four arms encircle him, and the creature picks him up like an armful of firewood. Slowly, it stands, and as it does its wings envelope him, blocking out the rest of the world. He draws his hands against his chest just as the creature draws his body closer, cradling him as one might a lamb to slaughter. 

It starts back towards the cave at a leisurely pace, growling and chittering. It sounds pleased with it’s gift.

Behind them, he hears one elder say to another, “I wonder if we shall hear it happen? The last sacrifice in Victorville, two months ago, there was screaming before the spectators finished loading their carriages.”

Duck sucks in a shaky breath; the man they’re talking about was his friend. Was it so painful for him? Will it be that bad for Duck?

He allows himself a few tears, then. For his friend, for himself. For everything they’ve lost and left behind.

At the sound of his sniffles the creature pauses, and just as he glances up its head whips back towards the crowd. A piercing screech fills the air, and he smiles bitterly as he hears them all scrambling away in fear.

The creature quickens it’s steps after that, and soon cool air drifts seeps into the cocoon of its wings, signalling their entry into the cave. Not long after, the last rays of daylight fade behind them. The red eyes become the brightest thing in the cave, and when they glance down at him Duck does his best not to shrink in on himself. The growl changes to a softer sound. One clawed hand runs up and down his back, another pets his hair. If Duck didn’t know better, he’d think the monster was trying to comfort him. 

Far too soon, there’s the scraping of stone on stone and the creature takes a few more steps before lowering him to the ground. The wings retract just in time for him to see a stone door slide shut, plunging the cave into darkness. 

Whatever he’s sitting on, it isn’t stone. Two crystals spring to light, revealing the creature with a hand on each. They glow as brightly as any fire, and Duck finds himself seated in a large nest of soft pillows, and warm fabrics that are pleasant to the touch. There’s no sign of blood or bones or other remnants of the humans who came before him. Maybe this monster is fastidious.

Or maybe it’s going to eat every last bit of him. 

The creature kneels in front of him again, leaning forward. It doesn’t look bloodthirsty or angry. It mostly looks sorry for him.

“Wait.”

The creature waits.

Duck grabs a pillow, shields his chest with it as he speaks, “I, uh, you don’t need to eat me. Or, uh, maybe you do cause you don’t got other food but, uh, but I’m sure we could work somethin out.”

It smiles, cocks it head.

“Please.” He whispers, “I ain’t done anythin wrong. Except breakin that White Rose’s nose.”

“Given that he’s had a hand in goodness knows how many people’s unhappiness, I do wish I’d been able to see that.” The monster speaks and the surprise has him crawling backwards, still clutching the pillow. 

“Oh, oh dear, I’m sorry.” The monster sits back on it's heels, “I’m afraid in my excitement at having you here I didn’t keep an eye on your possible reactions to my speaking.”

“Excitement? You’re fuckin _excited_ to kill me?”

“That isn’t what I said.” The creature stands, pads over to large desk, “is it?” It picks up an object, holding it out so Duck can see.

Red glasses that he’d know anywhere. 

“No, how did you get him? I though he got away.” Ducks voice cracks and tears threaten the corners of his eyes. There must have been a fourth man at the barn, and they let Duck believe Indrid escaped as one final, cruel joke.

“He was supposed to get a way.” He repeats, weakly. 

“Never fear, Duck. I did not get him” it puts the glasses on and reality bends, “I am him.”

Duck stares at the man before him. Then he stares some more. 

“How in the everlovin fuck?”

Indrid grins, “I will explain everything shortly, but first, may I approach you?”

Duck nods and Indrid climbs into the nest. Duck crawls quickly over to embrace him. Indrid chirps, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and guides it gently along Ducks cheeks.   
“I’m so sorry that I frightened you. Unfortunately, I had to play up being a monster to maintain the ruse. If I seemed too gentle, they would have gotten suspicious. Though, half those sounds I made were actually happy ones, not that they would know that.”

Duck blinks at him, and he shrugs, “I was excited to see you again. It was natural response.”

“So then this whole cave, what is it?”

“My home, in several senses of the word. This room and the adjoining chambers are my literal house. They are part of the kingdom of Sylvain, which thrives here in these mountains, and which is my home.”

“But, other villages, their monsters-”

“Are said to look different? That is because we children of Sylvain come in many forms, some of which are more alarming to humans than others. But no matter how frightening we look, we don’t mean you any harm.”

“O-kay.” Duck’s heart is still thudding around in his chest like a trapped rat. He has so many questions, nearly all of which stem from his fear that this is a trick.

“Are you alright?”

“Yep, uh, fuck, uh...fuck, I mean-”

“Duck, I can see the pulse in your wrist from here.” Indrid states gently before taking his hand, “would it help for me to explain things in more detail?”

Duck nods.

“Well then, let me get this out of the way first: I am a seer, which comes in very handy for things like knowing who a town is likely to pick as it’s next sacrifice. Or when it’s going to rain. Or, well, you get the picture.”

“So you weren’t-”

“Bullshitting you about my abilities when I read your palm? Correct. Also, apologies for speaking on top of you. I’m always a few seconds ahead, and the habit is very difficult to break. Now, since you’re about to ask again, oh, ah, sorry that’s also an old habit: no, never in the history of Sylvain has one of the humans sacrificed to us actually been eaten.”

“Then how come we keep givin ‘em?” 

Indrid stands, picks a large silver carafe from a nearby table and pour water into two metal cups. Duck doesn’t even blink, terrified that might break the spell. 

“Long ago, the first humans who settled the land outside our mountains got along fairly well with us. Or at the very least understood that we were their neighbors, not a threat, and we moved between each others towns easily. But then, those humans were forced out by the humans who founded towns like Kepler. The Sylphs did not step in, which I believe was a failure on our part. Be that as it may, when a Sylph ambassador went to the nearest village, there was a great uproar and no small amount of miscommunication. The ambassador was inviting the humans to a meal, in a gesture of good faith. The humans thought-”

“You wanted to eat ‘em.” Duck takes the offered glass.

“Precisely. You can imagine, then, the confusion of the Sylph who stepped out of their door the next day to find a panicked, tearful human waiting for them. Now” Indrid settles cross-legged in front of him in the nest, “tell me, what would you do if you opened your door to find someone in distress upon your steps?”

“Bring ‘em into the house and see if I could help ‘em.”

“And that’s just what that Sylph did, not realizing that other villagers were watching from the trees. After a great deal of tears on the humans’ part, she was able to communicate that she had been chosen as sacrifice because she was with child outside the bonds of marriage. Unsurprisingly, when her host asked if she wanted to go home and explain the error, she said ‘not even if you did want to eat me would I go back to that fuckin place.’”

“Were you there?”

“No, but the records are quite clear on her phrasing. The Sylphs met the next day to discuss what to do, but before their meeting adjourned, three more people had been ‘sacrificed.’ It didn’t take us long to notice a pattern: towns sent those who they deemed deviant, those they deemed inconvenient.”

“Fuckin White Roses.” Duck mutters, draining his cup.

“Not quite. The White Roses are a relatively new ruling force in these kingdoms. But, sadly, there have always been orders of their kind. Orders who were all to happy to be rid of what they saw as the unpleasant aspects of their societies. And so we kept gathering those poor offerings up, bringing them into Sylvain so they might find a new home. Over time, we started scouting, looking for those who were likely targets, as we’d learned from previous humans that their lives were often unpleasant well before the sacrifice if they were deemed outsiders. It seemed only fair to be a friendly, or even protective, presence where we could.”

Duck snickers.

“What?” Indrid looks puzzled.

“Just picturin you like some big, scary guardian spirit you see in church windows, but hidin out in the bushes behind someone's house.”

Indrid chuckles, “You’re not far off, although my role has often been different. When I came of age, I used my foresight to help identify them likely sacrifices. And, well, in the last few years, as Sylphs were scouting and watching, many took the chance to strike up friendships with those humans or, in quite a few cases, woo them. That way, they’d have a familiar face when they arrived here in Sylvain. In some cases, the courtship accidentally lead to those humans being sacrificed sooner.”

“Like yours truly?” Duck hands the cup back and Indrid sets it on the floor.

“Indeed.” Is the sheepish reply. 

“And what if they didn’t want to stay here? The people who got sacrificed, I mean.”

“Then we helped them find a new place to live, in other towns farther away, ones where they wouldn’t have to fear because of who they loved or how they were. Plenty chose that, plenty chose to remain here.”

“Huh.” Duck nods again, studies the needlework on a pillow near his feet. When Indrid doesn’t say anything else, he hazards a glance up.

The other man is worrying his lip, tapping his fingers together. Duck tries for levity.

“Hey, don’t look so nervous. You ain’t the one with your world upside down.”

“I, I know. But I care for you and you seem overwhelmed or unhappy and that is normal but I am unexpectedly finding your distress distressing.”

“You wanna run that by me again.”

Indrid shakes his head, “nevermind. Are you hungry?”

Duck’s stomach gurgles.

“I shall take that as a yes. I can retrieve food for you, if you wish to stay here and rest or-oh, ah, all the futures where you wanted to stay here just vanished.”

“Sorry, thought about it and I don’t wanna be alone right now.” He still doesn’t want Indrid out of his sight, doesn’t want it to turn out to be some trick of the cave, some fevered dream.

“As you wish.” Indrid stands, offering Duck his hand. He takes it, following Indrid back into the tunnels. Stones in the wall light up as they walk, and various halls are lit with torches for added brightness. It’s much homier than he’d expected a cave to be.

Indrid stays silent, and Duck senses the Sylph is offering him space to think. His grip on Ducks hand is loose as well, so he can pull away any time. 

A sudden knot of worry fights with the hunger in his stomach.

“Indrid? You, uh, you didn’t get me sacrificed sooner just because you had the hots for me and you wanted to have me here all to yourself, did you?”

“Oh, no, goodness no.” Indrid turns hurriedly, resting a hand on each of Ducks shoulders, “in fact, in most of the futures, we did not even get romantically involved.”

“What?”

“In most of them we developed a passing friendship. But, ah, well, you were there. You know what happened.”

“But if you can see the future-”

“I should have seen those White Roses coming? Yes. Yes, I should have. But I was distracted by the very charming human making very alluring sounds on top of me.” Indrid says plainly, before turning red, “Ah, apologies, you are unlikely to be in a flirtatious mood after the day you have had.”

Duck smiles, rubs Indrids upper arm fondly, “try me in a few hours, sugar.”

Indrid grins at the pet name, and they continue on through the caves. Soon, Duck sees daylight.

“Wait, we ain’t goin back out towards Kepler are we?”

“Not a chance. Sylvain is only mountains on her outer edges. Within them, she is so much more.”

As they step out of the mouth of the cave, Duck blinks in the warm sunshine. They’re in a massive meadow, dotted with a spring, several ponds, and a handful of stores and stalls, some freestanding in the field and some built into the walls of the mountains. Wildflowers bloom, some in clumps and patches and some in more carefully lined gardens. Beyond the meadow, he can see a forest, trees whose leaves shine green, silver, and gold.

Indrid smiles at the awe on Ducks face, then turns them towards one building, painted in a checkered pattern. As they get closer, Duck can see it’s a restaurant, with wooden picnic tables out front.

A figure steps out the door carrying trays, sets them down before a mixture of Sylphs and humans. It waves.

“Hey Indrid, runnin a little behind since we’ve been busy, but don’t worry, I’ll have the things you asked for ready soon.” In spite of being two feet taller than Duck and looking like a cross between a man and some other form of ape, gentleness radiates from him. He extends a large, furry hand Ducks way, “I’m Barclay. Nice to meet you, Indrid hasn’t shut up about you for the last week.”

“That so?” Duck smirks at the other man, who turns bright pink. 

The door to the shop creaks open once more as Barclay continues, “how are you holding up? Know that sacrifice shit is real scary on your end. I felt so bad about how upset my human was, I set a new record for how many times I apologized during the trip from the sacrificial spot to my home. Isn’t that right, Joe?”

“I maintain you could have warned me ahead of time, ideally one of the ones when you brought me flowers. But I forgive you all the same.” Says a calm, friendly voice. 

Duck knows that voice. He hurriedly peers around Barclay, finds a familiar face smiling at him as Joe Stern wipes his hands on a red apron. 

“Hello, Duck.”

Duck clears the few feet between them easily, gathers his friend into a hug. Stern laughs, hugging him back. 

“You got any idea how fuckin happy I am to see you?”

“Likewise.” Stern lets go of him, looks him up and down, “I heard you broke a White Roses nose. Good for you.” He pats Duck on the back; his dark hair is looser than he used to wear it, and he looks so vibrantly happy.

“Thanks. Uh, there’s just one thing that’s confusin me. Well, there’s a lotta things confusin me right now but this is the one that applies to you. I heard the elders talkin about how when you got carried off, they heard screamin even before the folks watchin headed home.”

Now it’s Sterns’ turn to go red, “Yes, ah, well, you see, Barclay didn’t make it very far before telling me what was going on. And, as you can imagine, the relief of knowing I wasn’t going to die coupled with the joy of seeing him again lead me to ask for a certain form of celebration. Right then and there.”

Duck blinks for a moment, then bursts out laughing, “figures a fuckin White Rose couldn’t tell the difference between someone bein killed and someone gettin their brains fucked out.”  
Stern is laughing now too, “It wasn’t even my screaming.”

A high, chirping laugh joins them and Duck turns to see Indrid with his hands over his face, laughing at a mortified Barclay.

“What, he knows how to get me going?” The cook crosses his arms in a mock pout.

Stern giggles one last time, then nods over Ducks shoulder as a new group enters the tables, “I need to help with the dinner rush, but I promise we can catch up tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.” He waves as his friend disappears inside. 

“Duck you may wish you brace yourself.”

“For wha-ahhhck!” 

He’s knocked to the ground by a figure yelling, “you’re heeeeere!”

“Aubrey?”

The young woman smiles down at him, freckled nose crinkling from the force of her grin. Her frizzy dark hair is newly streaked with red dye.

“Yep” She lets him sit up before crushing him in another hug.

“Hi, Duck.” Dani, her girlfriend, leans against a nearby table, waving. Her golden hair is up, and she looks comfortably grass-stained. 

“I almost told Indrid he had to tell you what was coming, because I was so worried that you’d be scared.” Aubrey says, still not letting go, “but he pointed out that you can’t lie to save your life, and that you might give him and us away.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Dani told me about the whole set-up way ahead of time. And I was like, ‘fuck that, I’m not gonna let those jerks get any kind of satisfaction out of sacrificing me, even if it is just sending me back to my super hot girlfriend. So I was like, ‘let’s elope’ and she said yes.”

Dani shrugs, “She’s very persuasive.” 

“And! Something about being in Sylvain makes Dr Harris Bonkers able to walk on two legs and talk to me. Kind of.”

“That’s…good? I mean, you seem real happy about it.”

“IT’S SO COOL!”

“...Should I also be congratulatin you on gettin married?”

“Hells yeah, because I married a fucking awesome woman.”

Duck laughs, “Missed you a hell of a lot, Lady Flame.”

Aubrey punches him playfully at the nickname. He listens happily, for nearly and hour, as Aubrey tells him all about their home, their gardens, moving from the ground to one of the tables as they chat. Eventually, she has to leave to prepare for some magic lessons, but not before making Duck promise to come by tomorrow so she can show him more of the kingdom. 

He watches her and Dani walk off towards one set of tunnels, turns back to find Indrid now sitting across from him. 

“I ordered dinner, and I thought we could eat out here since it’s turning into a lovely evening.” He gazes up at the emerging stars with a sigh.

“Sorry, I been talkin to my friends this whole time and-”

“Duck, are you trying to apologize for spending time with loved ones you thought you’d never see again?”

“…Well, when you put it like that it sounds silly. Sorry, don’t know why I’m apologizin so much.”

“It’s alright.” Indrid rests his hand lightly on Ducks own, “You’ve just been through what was, as far as your mind and body are concerned, a near death situation. It’s not strange to be rattled. “

“Thanks. Uh, Indrid, can I ask you somethin?”

The Sylph nods.

“Barclay called Stern ‘his’ human. If, if a Sylph rescues a human does that mean they-”

“Belong to them? Oh goodness, no. It’s a language issue. In Sylph, the phrasing conveys that they were that humans’ first contact with Sylvain. But it comes out odd in English. Oh, thank you.” He smiles as Stern sets two plates down; soup for Duck, and a pile of fruit for Indrid.

“Do you mind if I take off my glasses to eat?”

Duck, mouth already full, shakes his head. They eat in contented silence for a bit before Duck asks, “have any humans ever tried to come rescue their friends?”

“Two instances, both recent.” Indrid pops a strawberry into his mouth, chews thoughtfully, “I suppose more don’t because so often those offered at outcasts. And, many people are rather cowardly. The first one to try it was Mama.” He points off to his left, to a human woman who is leaning against a tree, carving something Duck can’t quite make out from wood.

“Hold the fuck up, Mama Cobb? Everyone thought she made for the coast after Thacker was offered. Oh shit wait, that means he’s here too!”

Indrid smiles as he nods, “Mama came shortly after we took him in, well armed and quite willing to fight whatever she had to in order to help him. She had to meet several other humans before she was convinced it wasn’t a trick. Then she decided to stay herself, and handle security in case of other humans with less-kind motives.”

“And the other exception?’

“Hollis.” He points to a young person in a yellow and black shirt, “They were taken by Jake, but he only got halfway to here before he was followed by their entire band of riders, the Hornets. I’m not sure who was more confused; Jake by the sudden swarm of angry Hornets, or Hollis at the fact that their monster was…less than monstrous.” He points to a pool where Hollis is dangling their feet. A seal flops up beside them, then turns into a young man, seal-pelt tied around his neck. Duck has several questions about how that particular sacrifice looked, but saves them for later.

“The Hornets, Hollis included, now come and go, helping with security. They also help us if I identify a town that plans on…mistreating a sacrifice prior to the ceremony. They go and insure no such thing occurs.”

Duck finishes his meal as Indrid licks his plate. When the Sylph reaches for his glasses, Duck stops him.

“You, uh, you don’t gotta put those on if you don’t want.”

Indrid cocks his head, a gesture Duck is rapidly growing fond of, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. It’s you’re home, Indrid. You oughta be how you want, don’t gotta stay disguised on my account.”

Indrid studies him carefully, then folds the glasses up. 

“All set.” Barclay places a large basket down in front of them. They say their goodnights, and head back to the entrance from whence they came.

Indrid pauses before they step into the tunnels, “Let me show you how to navigate, since the cavern networks can be confusing to new arrivals. All you do is touch the wall and name where you’d like to go. Here, you try.” He guides Ducks hand up in his lower right one, resting it on the stone. 

“Indrids room.”

The outline of his hand glows deep green, and as he steps back it slides up, forming a circle. As they step into the cave, the light stays just ahead of them, guiding them through the twists and turns. When they arrive at a specific door, it vanishes. 

Indrid traces a quick symbol on the door and it slides open to reveal his room.

“The sigils act as keys. I’ll teach you the one for this room tomorrow.” Indrid taps the crystals to light the room before the door slides shut.

“What’d Barclay give you?”

“I’ll show you in a moment. Make yourself comfortable, I just need to grab a few things from my bedroom.”

Duck nestles back into the same mound of pillows, examines the contents of a shelf. Various terrariums hold plants, glowing green in faint shimmers and bursts. Clear flasks hold magenta liquid in rows along a shelf. There’s a desk covered in pens, pencils quills, paper, ink, and piles of drawings, and next to it is a large box of eyeglasses, watches, rings, bracelets, and other small, wearable items. 

“Here we are.” Indrid settles across from him, presenting him with the basket. 

Opening it, surprise wells up inside him. There are several packages of sweets that are only made in Kepler, along with his favorite pastries, still warm from Barclays oven. There are books as well, the ones he’s read time and again and could read a hundred times more. Surrounding all the smaller items are a few pieces of clothing, and just by looking at them he knows they’ll fit.

When he looks, wide-eyed, at Indrid, the Sylph has both sets of hands clasped together in anticipation. 

“Indrid this, this is amazin.”

“Is it? Oh I’m so glad you liked it.” Indrid chirps, claps his hands, “It’s a tradition. When I foresee a new human being sacrificed, the scouts and I piece together what things that person might want in their first days here. As I said, thinking one is going to die, even if one survives, can create a great deal of stress and difficult emotions. We found humans have a better time if we have familiar things here to comfort them.”

“Hold up, this is my jacket. As in, the jacket they took from me when they threw me in jail.”

Indrids antennae relax a little, and he clicks his top set of claws together, “ah, yes. You liked it so much, and you looked so handsome in it that I had one of the Hornets procure it for you.”

Duck beams at him, continues sorting through the box, munching on a cheese roll as he does. Indrid gives him space, putters about his cave, occasionally pausing to draw at his desk.   
The exhaustion comes in one great wave, pushing Duck down. He yawns, shakes his head to clear the drowsiness from it.

“The bedroom is through there, if you need to sleep.”

Duck stands, with no small amount of effort, and waits for Indrid to do the same.

“Is everything alright?”

“I was, uh, assumin you’d be joinin me. Since you rescued me and all.”

Indrid stands, crosses to him. One set of hands cups his face, the other takes his own, “Duck, my actions today, the opening of my house to you, the gifts, those were all done because they are the right thing to do. They do not bind you to me in any way. You owe me nothing.”

“But, you were pretty clearly courtin me before and likin it.”

“I was. And I would like to continue wooing you. But if you wish to only be friends, we shall do that. If you wish to find somewhere else to stay, I will gladly help.”

“You’d let me go just like that?” Duck raises an eyebrow.

Indrid hesitates, then says softly, “I cannot say it would be easy for me. I am very fond of you, I love talking with you, and kissing you is wonderful. But I only want you to stay, and to let me court you, if that’s what you truly, freely desire as well.”

Duck strokes a hand across the feathers of his chest, earning him a happy chirp, “I’d like to go slow, on account of havin to readjust my understandin of the world on, uh, multiple levels. But other than that” He looks up into ruby-red eyes, “I’d be real delighted to keep courtin.”

Indrid bows his head, bumping the soft fluff of his forehead against Ducks left hand, “Of course. The main bed is yours, until such time as you wish me to join you. I shall be quite comfortable out here.”

The main bed is a slightly neater looking version of the nest out front. He readies himself for bed, finds Indrid also got him pajamas, deep green and very warm. After some wrangling and rolling, he finds a blanket to pull over himself and pillow that feels right under his head. He’s never slept on something so soft; it’s a bit unnerving. 

He taps the small, bush colored crystal and the light goes out. Then, he remembers his manners.

“Goodnight, Indrid.” He calls.

“Goodnight, Duck. Sleep well.” Comes the lilting reply. 

He can’t prove it, but he’s fairly sure he hears Indrid say excitedly, if softly, to himself, “I am going to woo you so very hard.”


	4. My Fair and Flighted Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey teaches a lesson. Duck makes a confession. Indrid shows off his wings.

Duck wakes up with the sunrise. 

Then rolls over and wonders how the fuck he’s seeing a sunrise from deep in a cave.

The answer is in the form of a sphere someone, Indrid no doubt, has set by the bed. It’s glowing a golden pink, gradually fading into the warm, soft light of a spring morning. Duck studies it from the comfort of the nest, faintly remembers that last night it had been a deep blue, filled with stars. 

The temptation to stay in the warm pile of fabric and pillows, surrounded by a smell he cannot place but feels deeply drawn to, loses out when the scent of coffee wanders in from the other room. 

He pads out into the front room, finds it empty, turns to his left and discovers a small kitchen. On the dark, wooden table, alongside a dozen scattered drawings, is a pot of coffee and a note.

_Duck,  
I have seer work to attend to for most of the day. If you use the mark on the back of this paper, you will be able to open and close the door to my home to come and go as you please. Sylvain is yours to explore, though I suspect Aubrey may hunt you down if you do not visit her. _

_If you wish, in the evening there is somewhere I would like to take you. Meet me by the spring on the south end of the meadow at sunset if you wish to go. If you do not, that is alright as well._

_Help yourself to any food in the kitchen. I made you coffee. I may have burnt it slightly, as I am used to tea. Apologies.  
-Indrid._

There’s something scribbled out beside the Sylphs name. Duck holds the paper closer to his face, then smirks; beneath the scratched ink, a small line drawing of a heart is still visible. 

He takes his time with breakfast, practices the key on the table as he sips the last of the coffee. Wanders into the bedroom to change, finds a door to a whole other room he hadn’t noticed in the dim light the night before. It’s an immense washroom, with steps leading down, down, and down to a circle of hot springs. He’ll have to explore those later. But he’s eager to venture out and find his friends, and so he settles for a shower. 

Washed, dressed, and fairly certain he won’t accidentally lock himself out, he steps into the tunnels, and rests his hand on the wall. 

“Aubreys house?”

The same green light outlines his hand, drifts up the wall and forms into a circle, and he follows it along the passageway and out into the morning air.  
\---------------------------  
“Spade?”

Duck hands Dani the tool as he sits on the soft earth. Across from him, Aubrey is attempting to teach her rabbit sign language (“so he can talk to people without needing me to translate”) between her questions to Duck.

“Anyway, Janelle says I’m one of the strongest magic users she’s seen is years. We’re working on complex healing spells right now. Also fire dousing spells.”

“Both sound useful.”

“That’s another reason I’m glad Dani told me the truth about Sylvain and agreed to bring me here. Can you imagine the fit they’d throw back home if they found out about all the cool shit I can do?”

“Still amazed they didn’t trace that one melted “obedience” statue back to you.”

“If they didn’t want their stuff melted, they should stop hurting people.”

Dani laughs from down the row of root vegetables, “That’s my fireblossom.”

“So” Aubrey tucks her knees up to her chest, turning a smile on Duck that, historically, means a grilling is coming,“you and Indrid, huh?”

“Me and Indrid _maybe_.” 

“Maybe?” Dani looks up, smear of dirt on her cheek, “Duck, he’s crazy about you. You’re basically all he talked about once he got back from Kepler.”

“And it sounded like you really like him. Or, y’know, liked him enough to want to fuck him in the nearest empty barn.”

“It weren’t the nearest one.” Duck grumbles. 

Aubrey presses on, “Is it the giant moth thing?”

“No. Er, uh, not only that. Just don’t feel like there’s any rush, and he don’t seem to feel like there is either. Besides, maybe it’ll turn out we ain’t a good match. Seems like he’s kinda important around here and I’m just a regular dipshit.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the-”

“Aubrey don’t fuckin say it I swear-”

“Prophecy babyyyyyyyyyy!” Aubrey hoists the rabbit in the air, who honks in a way that can only be a curse word. Duck buries his face in his hands with a groan, and Dani laughs so hard she flops back onto the ground. They’re menaces, the lot of them. And he would not trade them for the world.  
\-----------------------------------------  
“So, you’re a cook now.” Duck grins at Stern as the man climbs up the boulder to sit beside him. Nearby, Jake launches himself out of a pool, landing with a splash and a cheer from several Hornets. 

“More like a waiter, all things considered.”

“Bit of a leap from studyin to write the worlds most comprehensive bestiary.”

“Duck, we’re basically living in a bestiary.”

“True.” 

“That being said, I’m not all the way used to the change. I had it all planned out; where I’d go, what I’d write, who I’d study under”

“I know, saw the charts you made”

Stern laughs, elbows him, before frowning, “and then it all changed in an instant. I’d been so careful, Barclay and I hadn’t been caught doing anything and then somehow a White Rose knew exactly when to walk in to find me binding. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly happy here. But I worked so hard for so many things and they were gone in an instant.”

“Yeah.” Duck pours as much understanding as he can into that word, lays back on the warm stone to gaze at the sky. Watches the clouds change shape and murmurs, “I tried to come to you.”

“Excuse me?” Stern looks down at him. 

“When I found out they’d caught you. Tried to figure out if there was a way to rescue you between when they sacrificed you and when it, or uh, I guess Barclay, grabbed you. Couldn't find a way that didn’t just end with us both gettin killed.”

“Duck, you know they structure it that way on purpose. So we can’t help each other.”

“Yeah, I know. Didn’t stop me feelin like I shoulda tried. Shoulda not been a coward.”

Stern snorts, “Duck, you are far from cowardly.”

“Hey, I’m openin up here, lemme bare my soul and shit.” Duck teases. 

“Speaking of baring souls-”

“Oh fuck not you too-”

“-How are things with Indrid?”

“Happenin? I dunno, I only been here a day, and he’s been out. By the end of the night, we could have decided we ain’t interested in each other.”

He’s not sure why defensiveness prickles out of him whenever the others act as though he and Indrid will be together. Only that part of him is still dead certain that he can’t have both Indrid and the safe, stable life he’s craving. 

Stern makes a noise to suggest he’s on to the fact Duck is hiding something. But, mercifully, for once in his life he doesn’t pry. Instead, he lays down, and joins Duck in studying the peaceful sky. 

“All I’ll say is: it’s so, so fucking nice to be able to love without fear for the first time in my life. Even if it took some getting used to.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
Rich, golden light disappears over the mountains as Duck heads towards the edge of the meadow. Indrid, in his human form, waits for him beneath a birch, basket slung over his arm.

“I’m so glad you decided to join me.” He’s beaming.

“Didn’t see it comin?”

“I did, but just because I saw a good thing occurring doesn’t mean I can’t be delighted when it happens.” He offers Duck his hands, intertwining their fingers and guiding him into the woods. Listens to Duck talk about his day, laughing at (usually) the right time, and sharing how his work went. Soon, they’ve reached a clearing, full of giant, majestic, silver oaks. Duck stands, awestruck.

“When you showed me your favorite place in Kepler I knew I had to bring you here.”

Duck continues marveling as Indrid lays out a blanket and some food. It’s only when Indrid pats the blanket beside him that it occurs to Duck to sit down. 

As they eat and talk, the pretense of personal space vanishes. Indrid nestles against him, keeping their hands together when he can. By the time his lids are going heavy, he’s stargazing with his head resting on Indrids shoulder. 

“C’mon, sugar we better head back, or you’re gonna end up carryin me.”

“I can think of worse things.”

“Me too, but I wanna finish tellin you about the waterhorse in my grandparent's pond on the way back.”

“Very well.” Indrid nuzzles his cheek, “let’s go home.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
The first days of Ducks time in Sylvain are going better than Indrid ever foresaw them. Duck has spent his time exploring the nearby town and woods, sometimes with Indrid tagging along or acting as a guide, and catching up with old friends and acquaintances. Thacker has even offered Duck the chance to help him as a forest steward here in Sylvain, a prospect that had Duck excitedly talking about plants for a full two hours after it the offer was made. 

Their courtship is also going well. It's measured, with friendly touches coming easily to them, though there are moments when Indrids resolve to let Duck be the one to ask for more intense contact shudders and nearly crumbles. When Duck laughs, for instance, that absurd sound that makes Indrid glow with affection. When he cuddles close in the living room, body sturdy and warm. When Indrid sees him from a distance, or in the futures, and he’s smiling in that charmingly crooked way of his. 

In those moments, Indrid wants to drop to his knees and implore Duck for an invitation into his bed, for a kiss, for the chance to lay his hands on every inch of that tantalizing body and hear him moan. 

While that pleasure is out of his reach for the time being, another, simple pleasure emerges in the form of bringing Duck tokens of his affection. Books, food, flowers, new plants in little pots he can place around the house, each one earns him a teasing smile.

“Careful, may just take to loungin around in my underwear and lettin you dote on me.”

Even in his human form, Indrid made an intrigued chirr at that image. 

Currently, Indrid is sprawled out on the floor of the living room, drawing, while Duck sits at the desk with his newest gift; a collection of pieces that, when assembled, will form a small model ship. They haven’t spoken in goodness knows how many minutes, but Indrid finds no need to. Strange, often he is far more comfortable with silence than whoever he is sharing a space with. But Duck seems as content with it as he is. 

Eventually the human stretches, looking satisfied and sleepy, “I’m gonna head to bed. Don’t fill up the whole house with sketches of me while I’m asleep.”

Indrid cocks his head, then notices that half the drawings in front of him are not, in fact, futures, but loving renderings of the man now standing over him. 

“I make no promises.”

Duck smirks, bends down and takes Indrids hand. His lips are rough and warm when he kisses it. Indrid chirrs softly, then chirps in surprise when Duck nips the soft skin.

“G’night, sugar.”

“Goodnight, my sweet.” He whispers as Duck winks at him and heads into the bedroom.

Indrid occupies himself with drawing until he’s certain Duck is asleep. Then he very primly sets his glasses aside, crawls into the nearby nest, and buries his hands between his legs, muffling his needy, relieved chirps in a pillow that smells like Duck's soap. Pictures Duck first beneath him, human form writhing and twisting in time with his own. Then he lets himself be wicked, imagines Duck straddling his Sylph form, just the barest hint of a bulge in his belly from Indrids cock, the soft parts of him bouncing and the strong ones straining as he rides him.

He grabs one of the firmer pillows, grinds his cock against it, smooth silk a pale imitation of what he imagines Ducks thighs must feel like. Wonders how the human might sound if all Indrid did was tease his ass and thighs. He’s quite certain he could come from that, just as he is now. 

After tossing the defiled pillow towards his laundry basket, he lays in the bed, far more relaxed and feathers a bit ruffled. He flips through futures without much purpose, lands on one of Duck awaking with a cry. 

It’s still a fifty/fifty chance it won’t happen, but to be safe he stands and silently makes his way into the dark bedroom and through to the washroom. He’s drying his now-clean hands when a shout of fear rings out behind him, just as he anticipated.

A pause, then, Duck calls softly, “Indrid?”

Hmmm, that was not expected at all. 

“I’m right here.” He steps back into the bedroom, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, uh….yeah. Just had a nightmare, I think. Somethin bad happened to you and, and I wasn’t sure-” He’s looking around, disoriented. Indrid wishes he’d put his glasses back on; he knows Duck still gets unnerved on occasion by his Sylph form, especially if he’s not expecting it. Indrid doesn’t hold it against him in the slightest, as he’s well aware that he got one of the forms that humans find alarming rather than alluring. 

Indrid taps on the light, sits on the edge of the bed. Duck immediately shifts pillows and blankets aside, making a path to him and wrapping himself around Indrids right upper arm as best he can. Indrid drapes a wing over him and Duck huddles closer. 

“Would you like to talk about it.”

“Nope” Duck says emphatically, “Don’t think I’ll be sleepin any time soon either.”

“Oh dear.” Indrid strokes his back, cycles through various futures, looking for what might make him feel better. Tries the option with the best odds. 

“Would you like to take a little walk with me? There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“That sounds real nice.” Duck smiles weakly at him, hops out of bed to search for his coat and shoes. Indrid waits for him by the main door. The tunnels are not as bright this time of night, but he gets a rush of relief because he can see the color coming back to Ducks face as they walk. 

“Never been down this way before.” 

“It’s not a neighborhood, for lack of a better word, so there’s not really call to go to it. Unless, of course, you have an eye for natural wonders.”

Duck perks up noticeably and Indrid grins, turns them down a staircase, the steps illuminated by a mellow, green glow. 

“Sweet merciful fuck.” Duck gasps as they reach the bottom stair. 

The cave before them is lit by a thousand glowing points, some belonging to the plants, others to the small pools scattered about.

“They’re like the ones you got on your shelf.” Duck is already bending down to examine a cluster of oval leaves, each glowing teal. 

“Indeed. We’re in the ‘dark meadow’ or at least that’s what the words translate to from Sylph.” He perches on the edge of a nearby pond, twirling his claws in the silver water. Chuckles when he spies Duck now on his belly, closely examining a large plant with fronds that send sparks of purple light into the air. For awhile he simply watches Duck, the way he meticulously catalogues the features of the flora, not moving from one until he’s satisfactorily looked over another. 

Even with the surrounding glow, Duck moves hesitantly when he tries to walk more than a few steps and so Indrid stands, wordlessly offers his arm. 

Duck takes it, looks shyly at him, “uh, you can um, with your wing, again.”

Indrid smiles, draws his wing across Ducks shoulders like a cape. And then they return to silence, Indrid using his eyes, well suited to darkness, to keep them from stumbling. It's only when they’ve made a large circuit of the meadow that Duck angles back towards the entrance. 

“Indrid? You know you’re glowin too, right?”

A spark of bright blue zips along the pale circles in his feathers. 

“Wait, shit, am I glowin?” Duck looks down at his arms. 

“I doubt it. This is a quirk of my kind. Our wingspots do that when we feel very strong emotions, but because we’re seldom in such darkness, no one notices.”

“And what,” Ducks voice is low, sly “strong emotion might you be feelin now, sugar?”

_I am feeling the kind of love I did not believe existed outside fairy tales._

_I am feeling certain that I would bring you the world if I could see you smiling at me like this every day_

“I am happier than I have been in a long time, Duck.” He smirks down at him, “And I’m fairly certain you know why.”

Duck reaches up, strokes his cheek, and then continues on the path.

“It’s funny” Duck muses, “the more I think about it, the more I realize I ain't ever gotten to properly court someone before. The way things were back in Kepler, well, you saw how much fuckin planin you and I had to do just to get in a little kissin. Kinda enjoyin gettin to take things slow for once.”

Indrid hums in understanding, “I am enjoying it as well.”

"Lyin don’t suit you, sugar.”

“I beg your pardon?” Indrids voice tightens.

“Indrid, you spent half this evenin lookin like you wanted to tear my clothes off. With your teeth."

“Oh, oh dear, I hadn’t realized it was that obvious. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for wantin me. Know I’m a catch.”

“Yes” Indrid purrs, using his wing to pull Duck closer, “you are. But I am telling the truth that I am so happy with how things are going between us.”

“I know, sugar I was just given you a hard time. You been so decent and sweet to me, you're livin up to your name.” They start up the stairs, keep their voices hushed once they reach the main network of tunnels. 

When they arrive home, Duck hangs up his coat, sets his shoes by the door. It’s only when he gets to the bedroom door and finds Indrid hasn’t followed that he pauses, his confident gait faltering.

“Do you, uh, wanna join-”

“Yes.” Indrid is to the door in an instant, Duck laughing at his eagerness.

“C'mon then, fluffball, I feel like cuddlin.”

“That sounds delightful. Even if I am far too dignified to be a fluffball.” He poofs up deliberately and Duck laughs again, flopping down in bed and rolling onto his side. Indrid climbs on behind him, wrapping his arms and wings around him and nuzzling the top of his head with a purr. 

“Damn, you’re real fuckin comfy.”

“Thank you. You are wonderful to hold.”

“Be your teddy bear anytime, sugar.”

Indrid couldn’t stop purring if he tried, cuddles Duck closer. And falls asleep to warm fingers slowly stroking the edges of his wings.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------  
This seemed simpler in Ducks head. 

He’s staring at a shelf in the washroom and cannot, for the life of him, find anything resembling a brush for Indrids feathers. 

“It’s because I don’t have one.” Indrid, currently human, leans against the door opening, “though I’m confused as to why yo were about to ask me about it.”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted me to groom your wings.”

Indrids eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“Indrid, you’ve been doin all kinds of nice things for me, and it’s hightime I do one for you. I read through a bunch of books Thacker has, and it said that groomin your wings was a way to court you.”

“It is” a blush is crawling up Indrids face, “and while I’d argue you’ve done many sweet things for me, I’m not about to turn down your offer. I have what we need out here.” They head back into the bedroom, and Indrid hands Duck one of the vials of magenta liquid squirreled throughout the house. 

“It’s pink mallow oil and yellow pine bark, it helps keep my feathers from getting too oily or too brittle. You can put it on with your hands.” He sits on the floor at the edge of the bed and takes of his glasses. Duck settles on the bed behind him as he stretches out his left wing.

“Any spots I shouldn’t touch?” Duck rubs five drops of oil between his fingers, filling the room with a sweet, slightly dusty smell. 

“A few on the inside of my wings, I’ll show you when we get to them.” 

He starts with the tip of the wing, working his fingers between the feathers and dragging them down, adjusting the few larger feathers he finds askew. As he works he tells Indrid about his plan to help Thacker figure out what’s making some of the Oak and Maple trees at the edge of the woods ill. 

A trill bounces off the walls, courtesy of the fact he’s been scritching the fluff at the back of Indrids neck and shoulder-blades. 

“Want me to do that again?”

“Please.” Indrid chirps, antennae sticking straight up when Duck obliges. He starts on the right wing next, bending to kiss the patch of feathers he tweaked last night in his sleep, gripping them too tightly in the course of a dream. They’ve shared the bed the last five nights, sometimes with Indrid draped around him in his Sylph form. Other times, he holds a wiry, bony body in his arms and wakes up to a silver-haired head resting on his chest. 

Now if only he could get the timing right to kiss him again. 

Indrid is purring steadily, wing drooping, when Duck taps him to turn around. He opens both wings. 

“Right, these patches,” he gestures to the last third of his wings as they get close to his body, “are off limits for now. They’re _extremely_ sensitive and touching them is considered an erotic action.”

Duck tucks that information away for later. 

“You’ll also want to be careful with these two bands” Indrid points to horizontal grey marks, one in each wing, “for the...same...oh dear.” His gaze drops away from a moment, and when it snaps back to Ducks face he claps two hands over his mouth, the other two flailing in the air. 

“Shit, what’s wrong?"

“We will have to continue this another time. I've just seen a very worrisome future leap to become the most likely.”

“What is it, what’s comin?” Duck takes his lower hands, rubbing his thumbs over them soothingly. 

“It’s the White Roses. This, this has never happened before but, they’re coming back after a sacrifice. Duck, they want proof that you’re dead.”


	5. I'm Alright Now, You're Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama holds a meeting. Indrid gets an idea. Duck plays a role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: Duck and Indrid decide to trick the people from the village into thinking Indrid is having sex with Duck prior to eating him. They don't actually have sex, and they agree on what to do beforehand, knowing the others will see the action as much worse than it is. Indrid takes on a more threatening air during the scene, though it's clear Duck is never afraid of him.

“Lemme get this straight” Mama leans against the desk in her office, “for no reason, suddenly these fuckers are gonna start checkin to make sure their sacrifices actually die?”

“No” Indrid shakes his head, clicks the claws of his top hands together, “it’s only in Ducks case. I don’t foresee it popping up elsewhere.”

Mama raises an eyebrow Ducks way, “Who’s nose did you break again?”

“Gregor Falwell."

“UGGGH I hate that guy.” The small fire in Aubrey’s hand flares. 

“Well, there’s our problem. His father’s second in command of the White Roses, and the kid is a real shithead. Guessin they wanna make an example of you.”

“Or show they’re powerful enough to force people to come into a dangerous place just confirm you’re dead.” Stern chimes in from beside Barclay. 

“Yeah, which I ain’t.”

“Could we make a glamour, or disguise something to look like Duck?” Aubrey tosses the fire up and down.

“They’d likely try to touch him, to bring back hair of a piece of his clothing as proof.”

“Not to mention, if Indrid had killed you the day off, you’d be mostly bones and some decay, given it was nearly two weeks ago.”

Duck shudders, glares at Stern.

“Find a body and put it in Ducks clothes?” Aubrey offers.

“I ain’t diggin up some poor souls grave just because some damn White Rose won’t leave good enough alone.” Duck counters. Mama nods in agreement. 

“If we can’t show them Duck is dead, we’d have to come up with a reason he’s still alive that wouldn't make them suspicious about what actually happens here.” Barclay loops an arm around Sterns shoulders. Duck glances at Indrid, finds his face blank. Then his eyes widen.

“I’ve just seen a very effective way forward. But, ah, Duck, we can only proceed with it if you are entirely comfortable helping me.”

“Ominous.” Duck turns to face him.

“If we convinced them that I was using you as a, ah, um” his voice goes quieter, “mate, before eating you, it would both appease their need for violent punishment and keep them from questioning what happens in here ever again.”

Dead silence as the rest of them stare at Indrid.

“You mean we’d let them catch us havin sex?”

Indrid shrinks in on himself, “Not exactly. We could stage it to look a certain way from their perspective. We, ah, we wouldn’t actually be doing anything more than cuddling like we already do-”

“Called it.” Aubrey says to Mama, who smirks

“-but with some added dialogue on my part and sounds on yours, their minds will do the work for us. Also it would let me ensure that they could not so much as touch you, let alone try to hurt you in some way.” 

Duck pictures the councilmen, the onlookers from the sacrifice. Thinks about them clutching their pearls and damn near shitting themselves with fear while all the while Indrid cuddles him and whispers sweet things in his ear. 

He gives the Sylph a conspiratorial grin, “Fuck it, let’s do it. Those fuckers are always itchin for a chance to watch other folks be miserable. Let’s give ‘em a show they’ll never forget.”  
\-------------------------------------------  
“Are you comfortable my sweet?”

“Been better.” Even with Indrids wing beneath him, the cave floor doesn’t make for a pleasant bed. They’re laying on their sides, backs to the tunnel Indrid foresees the interlopers coming down. Indrid is keeping his other wing slightly draped over Duck, so part of his face and back will still be visible. Beyond that, he's completely shielded by Indrids’ body.

“They should be here soon, and then we can get this over with. Oh, that reminds me, would you like to go to the dark meadow after this? I know you didn’t get to examine all of it.”

“Like that a lot. I'm tryin to work out if the plants down there are versions of the ones that grow in daylight, or if they're entirely different species.” Duck fidgets with nearby feathers, nestles closer.

“Mmmmm, I love how warm you are.” Indrid nuzzles his hair, then continues down to his neck. Duck stifles a laugh.

“Tickles.”

Indrid flicks his tongue out in response, making Duck shiver and giggle, “Gah! You’re a menace.” He draws the nearest hand to his mouth for a kiss. 

“Of course I am. I am the big, scary monster that is going to eat you up.” Indrid giggles in between kitten licks and fluffing his face against Ducks skin, making the human clamp both hands over his mouth to stop laughter pouring out. Indrid mock growls, antennae shaking with amusement when Duck attempts to do the noise back.

At the sound of voices, they both go still.

“How can we be certain it won’t attack us?”

“We must be quiet, you fool, that’s how.”

“That’s our cue.” Indrid murmurs. He start purring, letting the sound morph into a steady growl as Duck does his best to go limp in his arms and pretend he’s spent the last two weeks suffering and afraid, rather than being doted upon.

It would be easier to do that if Indrid were not once again nuzzling his head and lovingly stroking his belly with one hand. 

“There, just ahead, I hear something.”

Indrid growls louder, slips his upper right hand around Ducks neck. Doesn’t apply pressure, merely rests it there for show as his lower right grips Ducks hip. 

A slight twitching of Indrids hips tells Duck the party from the town must be within view (Indrid had assured him he wouldn't feel anything, "my anatomy takes slightly more coaxing than what we'll be doing to actually get hard").

“That’s it alright. Any sign of the Newton boy?”

Indrid tightens his hold on Ducks hip without warning, making him whimper (“Indrid, I’m serious, I ain’t sure I can even lie well enough to fake the noises” “well, what if I elicit them?” “yeah, that’ll work”). Beneath Indrids responding growl, there’s a chorus of gasps.

“That can’t be-”

“Good gods.”

“What is it doing?”

Duck rolls his eyes, Indrid breaks the growl with an exasperated chirr. Clawed fingers creep steadily up Ducks jaw, rest on his lips as Indrid quickens his movements.

“Shhhhh, little human.” The Sylphs voice is rasping and pitched deeper than normal, the voice they’d settled on after several prior attempts left Dani and Aubrey in a fit of giggles, “no complaints from you.” 

Two clawed fingers press into his mouth and Indrid growls sharply, to cover the moan Duck makes when they do. The part of his mind not occupied with their ruse is running wild with the feeling of Indrid, protective and possessive and utterly surrounding him. Duck may be shorter than average, but a lifetime of working out of doors (and several aborted attempts at hero training) means he is not a small man. But with Indrid holding him like this, he feels overpowered in the best way possible. He wants to bend to Indrids will, to do whatever he tells him too. 

“Is this what they do with them? Every time?” One hushed voice asks another.

Indrids fingers slip from Ducks mouth as the Sylph trills, jamming his hips forward and biting Ducks neck. It’s the faintest lovebite, but the surprise makes him cry out. 

“Are we certain it’s him? Gregor and Lord Falwell are not going to settle for a maybe.”

Indrid manages to meet Ducks eyes, and he nods; time for them to move to the second part of the plan. The Sylph rolls them so Duck his on his knees, face and upper body pressed to the ground, enough of him visible that there can be no doubt as to his identity. A wing conceals the fact he’s still fully clothed, Indrid once again surrounding him.

“Mmmmm, I’m so glad I’d just eaten the day they left you for me. I do enjoy playing with my food before eating it.” He bites down and all Duck can think is _more, again, please,_

“Please.” He whispers. 

“Begging will not change the fact I am hungry. But I suppose once more won’t hurt.” 

His tone is so in control, leaves no room for argument or resistance. Duck wants that voice to wrap him up and carry him away 

“That answers that.” Says one voice. 

“Have to say, serves him right.” 

“Aye, what a man like him deserves, feedin a monster more than a few ways.” 

“Not much of a loss, all told.” 

Duck gasps, pain splintering through his chest. 

“It’ll be a mercy, him dying. Weren’t going to amount to anything, way he was.” 

He knows each and every one of these voices, remembers them friendly and polite, remembers them talking about his potential, about how he was hardworking and bright, how he was a son Kepler could take pride in. 

Tears sting his eyes. Did he matter so little to them that they’d feel no pity? Did they think this was what people like him deserved? 

The growl above him changes again. 

“Who goes there?” Indrid hisses. 

“We, uh, he-” 

“If you are not gone swiftly, I will eat you instead of him.” 

The same screech Indrid made when Duck was sacrificed echoes through the cave, followed by scuffling feet and terrified whispers. 

After a moment, Indrid gathers Duck in his arms, sitting up as he does. 

“It may be safest for me to carry you until we’re further into Sylvain.” 

“Fine by me.” Duck responds flatly 

Indrid cradles him close until the walls are once again full of glowing stones and torches. They walk back silently. Once they’re home, Duck walks directly to the bedroom, sitting heavily down on the bed. 

“Would you still like to go to the dark meadow? I can even pack us a meal to take?” Indrid asks from the doorway. 

“Nah” Duck shakes his head, curls onto his side. 

“Oh” Indrid says softly, “alright. Would you like me to keep you company?” 

Duck shakes his head. 

"Very well. Ah, if you need me, I will be just out here.” 

This time, Duck doesn’t even respond.  
\-----------------------  
What has he done?  
What has he done, what has he done _what has he done?_

They’ve been back for hours and Duck has barely moved. When Indrid brings him dinner, he says he isn’t hungry, keeps wiping his eyes when he thinks the Sylph isn’t looking.  
He thought they’d been careful, that they were co-conspirators. It had almost seemed like Duck was enjoying Indrid pretending to be rough with him. Apparently he’d been wrong, and now Duck is hurting and Duck being hurt is the least acceptable outcome of any future. 

The futures themselves are no help, because he’s too anxious to look at what might happen if he tries to talk, or demands an explanation, or gives Duck space.  
  
And so he pretends to draw, the man he cares for miserable in the next room. It’s unjust, that his sweet Duck feel this way because others needed proof of their twisted version of justice. That his friends still jump or scramble to hide when seen doing certain things, old fear reflexes not yet dead, while the people who caused those fears go on their merry way. 

When night falls, he peers in and softly says, “I’ve an errand to run, I’ll be back soon. There’s still some dinner on the table if you need it.” 

Duck nods, and turns over in bed.  
\----------------------------------  
Lord Gregor Falwell the First prepares for bed, utterly satisfied. The scouts report that the deviant who dared to raise a hand to his son suffered a fate worse than death, followed by death itself. 

The thought cheers him. 

A spring breeze drifts through the window, rustling the leaves on the tree beside it. He steps to the window to draw in a refreshing, purifying breath. 

A clawed hand emerges from the tree and grips his nightshirt, dragging him face to face with piercing red eyes and horrible fangs and mandibles. 

“Mark me, human, and mark me well; we have an arrangement, your kind and mine, that suits us all. You have put it in grave jeopardy with your orders today. You do not come into our mountains anymore than we come into your towns. Do not do it again.” 

His back meets the floor with a painful thud, and by the time he scrambles to his feet, the beast is gone. He locks the shutters tight, and does not sleep at all that night. Or the next.  
\-------------------------------  
Indrid is a bit more clear headed after his nighttime visit. As he steps into their home, he finds Duck sitting up as he anticipated he would be, staring at a book and utterly failing to read it. He slips on his glasses and sits within an arms distance of him. 

“Duck, you do not have to tell me what’s wrong if you do not wish to, but I am worried about you. And I am sorry that I went too far during our performance. If you do not feel safe around me-” 

“Whoa now, hold on-” Duck’s interjection is sluggish, as if the words are struggling to form, “you think that’s what this is about?” 

“Am I mistaken oh, oh it seems I am.” The next few minutes of futures spill into his mind and he cringes at his own misinterpretation. 

“Indrid, nothin you did today upset me. It’s just, hearin them talk. I know why folks don’t speak up about the sacrifices or badmouth the decisions the White Roses make. I assumed most folks were like me and thought their ideals were bullshit. But there weren’t no white roses with ’em today, and they still thought I deserved to be hurt. I knew those men, Indrid. Woulda called ‘em friends and neighbors a month ago. But because of somethin I did that didn’t hurt nobody, they really believe I got what I deserved.” He meets Indrids eyes for the first time since he got into bed, then shakes his head, “Just stings is all." 

Indrid chirrs, sympathetically, taking Ducks hands. Bows forward and rests their heads together. 

“Didn’t mean to mope all day, and sure as hell didn’t mean to make you think you’d fucked up. I’m sorry.” 

“You do not need to apologize for feeling hurt by something awful.” He strokes Ducks cheek, another chirr buzzing from his chest. 

Duck puffs out an amused noise, “Kinda impressed you can make those in your human form.” 

“I’m not entirely sure on the mechanics of it. But with a few exceptions, any sound I can make in one form I can make in another.” 

“Huh” A curious light is back in Ducks eyes and Indrid could weep with relief, “what did that one mean?” 

If what Duck needs to feel better is the distraction of talking about Sylph languages, Indrid will talk about them for as long as he needs to, “Hmm, the best translation would be that I am acknowledging your pain or sorrow in a comforting way.” 

Duck kisses his cheek, “what about the one you make that’s sort of, uh” he chirps, awkwardly, ending with a little trill. 

Its so adorable Indrid cuddles him closer, “Excitement, usually the kind tied to an event. Seeing an old friend, walking into a festival, things like that.” 

“What about….” Duck tries another lower trill, laughs when it comes out like a parrot with whooping cough, and tries again. This time, it’s a low trill trailing up at the end. 

Indrid fights off a blush, “that’s used between bonded partners or lovers. Sometimes it’s a greeting, other times it’s merely an, hmm, a reaffirmation of affection.” 

“You make that one a lot.” 

“Goodness, I wonder why.” Indrid responds dryly. 

Duck makes a playfully rude hand gesture, loops his arms around Indrids narrow shoulders. Chills burst along Indrids spine when Duck scritches the base of his neck. He purrs, short and bubbling. 

“Kinda thought that’s what’d happen.” Duck grins, “I love that sound. Love knowin you’re happy.” 

Indrid leans into the touch, purrs louder, let’s his mind focus solely on Ducks fingers petting up into his hair, the delicious hint of his nails on his skin. 

“Now, what happens if I do this?” Duck cups his cheeks, pressing their lips together. Electricity zips and slides through his body and he deepens it, purr changing to hum and then a moan when Duck teases his tongue along his mouth and he parts it, welcoming him in. 

Duck kisses the corner of his smile, “think I got a favorite sound now.” 

“Duck.” 

“Aw, sugar, you’re pantin just from that?” He zigzags a thumb up Indrids cheek. 

“I have been dying to kiss you since our ill-fated meeting in the barn. I’ve dreamt about it every night since then.” 

“Gods almighty, Indrid” Duck growls, grips his head, puts such force behind the kiss that they tumble fully into the bed. 

“I’ve, I’ve OH, I’ve only kissed a handful of times in this form, and never quite got the fuss until youAH” Teeth sink into the thin skin above his collarbone, followed by the tenderest kiss. 

“Like that?” 

“Yes, goodness, please.” He whimpers, tangles his fingers in Ducks dark hair as the human methodically places one bite after another, kisses the bruised skin only to attack it harder on the next pass. 

“Cannot believe you’re lettin me do this, sugar.” 

“I will let you do anything you desire so long as you kiss me.” 

“Anythin?” Duck crawls the short distance to bring them face to face, chuckles when Indrid plants kisses along his jaw, “And what if the ‘anythin’ I want right now is to kiss you til you see stars? 

“_Yes_.” Indrid surges forward, twines his limbs around Ducks sturdy frame, mouth yielding and hungry. Duck’s laughter rumbles between them, not fully able to escape his chest, and soon turns to growling. He caresses Indrids face, runs a hand along his back and sides, warm fingers playing Indrid like a string instrument in a traveling band, each motion drawing an ecstatic, if slightly off-key, sound from his body. 

Duck comes up for air with a reluctant growl, breath and tongue lapping at the crook of Indrids neck. 

“Cannot believe my fuckin luck, you’re all fuckin ethereal and shit and you wanna kiss a fella like me.” He sits up enough that Indrid can watch the flush spreading down his neck. 

He cocks his head, “Duck you are one of the finest beings I've ever met, and you are so handsome you make me want to do thoroughly filthy things each time you smile at me. I’ve never wanted anything half as I want to kiss you. Goodness,” he glides his fingers up Ducks chest, “I still cannot believe you’re here in my bed.” 

“Yeah, I’m here alright, and I got some real nice ideas on what we can do in this here be-” He cuts off into a comically wide yawn. Gives Indrid a look that is valiantly attempting to be seductive but simply looks sleepy. 

“Perhaps we should discuss those ideas in the morning?” 

“Harumph” Duck flops backward, “damn body, needin things like sleep.” 

Indrid chuckles, curls up in his arms and draws the nearest blanket around them, “Don’t worry, Duck, we make whatever use of the bed you wish tomorrow. After all, we both need rest if we’re to do anything particularly strenuous.” He purrs, kisses Ducks shoulder. 

“‘S a good point.” Duck yawns again, draping one arm over Indrid, which warms him more than any blanket could. 

“Goodnight, my sweet. And remember, we have plenty of time. I’m not going anywhere.” 


	6. Now You're Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey cheers. Duck gets wet. Indrid gets romantic.

Duck awakens to warm, gentle light, and the distinctly disappointing realization that the object in his arms is a pillow and not his boyfriend.

“I have a meeting with Janelle and Mama, they want my thoughts on some magical protections they want to put in place.” Indrid turns from where he’s finishing grooming out his wings, examining them in the house's lone mirror. 

“Tell ‘em you can’t go, tell ‘em you got someone a home who needs your attention real bad.”

“Are you quite certain you want Mama to know the details of our love life?”

“....Fuck you got a point.” Duck huffs, cuddles the pillow closer, resting his chin on it to gaze at Indrid. The Sylph smiles, returns to bed briefly to stroke Ducks hair.  
“I should be back within a few hours, my sweet. After that” he tips Ducks chin up with one claw, “I have plans for you.”  
\-------------------------------------  
Indrid’s plans do not come to fruition that night. Nor do they come to pass any time during the next five days. It’s not because he or Duck is uninterested; it’s because the fates, as far as Duck can tell, have decided to repeatedly blue-ball him.

He and Thacker get caught up in their work multiple times, or tasks take longer than anticipated. Or, if he’s at home, relaxed and raring to go, Indrid is called away on seer business. Or, on the non-frustrating end, there are one or two occasions where they're wrapped in each others arms, kissing, but neither feels the time is right to do anything more.

Relatedly, Duck discovers he’s created an insatiable kiss monster. 

Indrid wakes up, and if Duck is already awake he will nuzzle his neck, chirping and dotting it with little kisses. If Indrid awakens first, he’ll kiss Duck the moment he stirs (and if Indrid has to get up before Duck is awake, he will kiss his forehead before slipping from bed). Duck’s become accustomed to, at various points in the day, wiry arms encircling his waist or shoulders, or a lanky frame settling in his lap, followed by Indrid kissing his cheeks and throat and, when Duck smiles and reciprocates, his lips. 

There was also the time that what was supposed to be a peck on the lips while at dinner turned into such a heated kiss that Stern had to stand, clearing his throat, for a full thirty seconds before they noticed he was trying to put down their food. And that all the other patrons were staring at them. 

Duck is determined to not make quite such a scene tonight. They’re attending a review by Janelle’s magic students, including Aubrey. They’re sprawled on a blanket beneath a sleet-gray sky, Indrid in his human form so as not to obstruct the view of people behind them. 

Two younger students, one a moth Sylph like Indrid, are demonstrating illumination spells, Aubrey animatedly cheering them on, when the sky opens up.

Shrieks and commotion fill the air as the crowd splits apart, everyone making for shelter as Janelle calls “we’ll finish this another time.”

Indrid and Duck hurry into the tunnels and back home, thunder rumbling behind them. In the bedroom, Duck strips off his soaked clothes as Indrid makes a mark on the floor. As soon as he does, the stones become warm beneath Ducks feet. 

Indrid notices Duck disrobing and tugs off his own sweater, “Good idea, I’d hate to catch a chill.” 

Duck is naked, reaching for his pajamas, when Indrid mutters, “blasted, ah, um, Duck could you help me please?”

He turns and guffaws at the sight of Indrid stuck, arms straight up, in his shirt.

“Yes, yes, it’s very amusing, now for goodness sake help me.” He’s giggling as Duck grips the hem and starts easing the shirt up, “this is why I prefer loose clothing.”

“Sugar, the reason this is stuck is because it’s loose and got twisted up in itself.”

“Hush, you.” The shirt comes off, and Indrid shakes out his hair with a chirr, grinning at him. Then his eyes drop lower, and he licks his lips as Duck fiddles with his pants.

“You, uh, you wanna take these off tooOO, oh, fuck.” Cold fingers pull him against Indrid, the Sylph rolling his hips and dragging a kiss up Ducks neck. 

“I will in a moment, but right now I simply must get my fill of this.” His hands glide along Ducks ass and thighs, with occasional detours up his sides and across his belly. The light touches become grabs, Indrid clearly luxuriating in feeling him up. 

“Fuck.” Duck groans, curling into the embrace as Indrid continues teasing him. The Sylph is purring, trails the fingers of one hand to brush his inner thighs. His cock is rapidly hardening, and a quick glance shows Indrids doing the same. 

“Get into the bed, my sweet.” Indrid murmurs, kiss him once before stepping back. 

Duck scrambles into the nest, watches intently as Indrid pulls off his pants and tosses them away. Apparently, the other man doesn’t wear undergarments. Meaning Duck is treated instantly to a view of his half-hard cock resting between his lean thighs. 

“I believe we’ve hit upon an excellent way to warm up." He clambers onto the bed, crawling over Duck and dipping down to kiss him hungrily. Rubs his cock along Ducks legs, hissing with pleasure when he does. 

Duck moans, but it gets caught in a tangle of nerves and comes out odd. Indrid stops, gazes down with worry.

“Is this alright?”

“Yeah, fuck, uh, it’s just…”

Indrid’s eyes widen behind his glasses a split second before Duck continues, “I don’t have much experience with this.”

“I suppose that’s not as surprising once I think about it.” Indrid rolls off him and onto his side, Duck turning to face him, “White Rose rules make this high risk enough that even if you wanted it, finding a willing partner would be tricky. But from your confidence when we met in Kepler, I assumed you knew what you were doing.”

“I mean, I ain’t some blusin virgin or some shit. Been more’n a few handjobs out in the woods, blowjobs too, though usually those were in a storage closet or somethin. But I ain’t done anythin more than that.” In spite of his words, a blush is creeping up his neck, embarrassment dragging his eyes down to examine the bedding. 

A cool hand cups his cheek, turning him to look at Indrid, “My sweet, I have no concerns about what you have or have not done. Goodness knows I’m not used to such encounters in my human form, since I only used it for scouting prior to meeting you. It will be, ah, _educational_ for both of us. And we can go as slow or as fast as you wish. All I truly desire is you, however you wish to offer that.”

“Lords” Duck nuzzles his cheek, “you oughta been a Bard with all that romantic shit.”

Indrid arches an eyebrow, “you like the ‘romantic shit.’” 

“That I do” Duck kisses him, feels the responding hum deep in his bones.

“Shall we start with something familiar?”

Duck frantically sorts through the fantasies in his mind, then smirks, “you wanna suck my cock, sugar?”

Indrid rolls onto his back, purring, “yes. Come straddle my face.”

Duck obeys, knees denting the pillows on either side of Indrids head. As soon as he does, a tongue darts out to tease his slit.

“Fuck” he gasps, bucks his hips forward, Indrid parting his lips with perfect timing. The head of his cock presses between them, Indrid lapping at the underside.The Sylph glides one finger up Ducks thigh, hums appreciatively, eyes going wide, when his mouth has to stretch as he moves further in.

“Shit, ain’t you a sight” Duck thrusts slowly, gaze switching between Indrid’s fluttering, blissful expression and his cock nudging his cheek, trailing spit and pre-come over his lips. He moves back and forth steadily, tongue slick and warm beneath him, aching to move all the way in, to feel the resistance and give of Indrid’s throat, be completely enveloped in him. But he holds back, not wanting to hurt him. Gently strokes Indrids cheek as he watches him.

“You look so good like this sugar, feel so good too, fuck, holy_shit_” The base of his cock hits Indrids lips as the Sylph suddenly grabs his ass and shoves him forward.

“How the fuck are you doing that?”

Indrid attempts to cock his head, then shrugs as if it's no big deal, and swallows around him, making him moan and double over. There’s a snicker beneath him and Indrid does it again. Duck growls and, without thinking, jerks his hips in retaliation. Indrid moans, gripping his thighs, and when Duck glances back he finds the other mans cock shiny with pre-cum as it pumps erratically in the air. 

“Can I do that again?” 

“Mmmmhmmmp”

Duck sits back up, cupping his hands around Indrids head and twining his fingers into fine strands of hair. Pulls halfway out, then jams back in as hard as he dares. There’s a garbled trill of delight and that’s all the encouragement he needs. He fucks Indrid’s face, grunting in pleasure each time the man beneath him moans or whimpers. 

“This is, shit, fuck, what I wanted to do in the barn, you know.”

Indrid impresses him by managing to look quizzical with a cock halfway down his throat.

“Was, was gonna drag you by this” he fists his hand tighter into the silver locks, “mess it all up and tell you to suck my cock, watch you jack off while I fucked your face, and, and, made you s-scream, shit” He pulls all the way out, gripping the base of his cock to keep from coming. Indrid leans up with whine to chase it, only for Duck to hold his head back.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I, I shoulda grabbed a cloth or somethin beforehand to come in.” When Indrid keeps staring at him, perplexed, he continues, “cause it... ain’t...polite? Ah fuck that ain’t a thing here in Sylvain is it?”

“Looking ahead at your explanation: no, it is not considered improper or immoral for one to come in a partner when not trying to procreate. Nor is it rude to come on them, assuming you’ve made certain ahead of time they are, ah, open to that.”

A tremor runs up Ducks legs a he mutters, “fuckin White Rose-bullshit.”

Indrid takes his free hand, rubbing his cheek into the palm, “my sweet, if you are more comfortable doing what you were taught was correct, I will not complain. But” he kisses his thumb, “I am also quite open to many other options.”

“I…” Years of teachings, of lectures about the narrow range of ways he could have sex if he wanted to remain “good,” swarm his mind. A scolding voice in his head says he ought to climb off of Indrid, not give into what he wants.

“Duck” Indrid’s voice has gone lower, like it was in the cave a few days prior, “look at me.”

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the floor, meets Indrids eyes.

“What do you _want_ to do?”

“It don’t, I shouldn’t, fuck, that is, uh, fuck-”

“I asked you a question, Duck.” A bite on the tip of his middle finger and he whimpers.

“I want, I want to fuck that sweet mouth of yours until I come, wanna fuckin spill into your stomach and feel you swallow every last fuckin drop, wanna hear you moanin from how much you like tastin me, fuck, Indrid, I want, I want…” He trails off, prepared to apologize, when he realizes:

Indrid is grinning, and wiggling beneath him more than he was a moment ago. The Sylph kisses his hand, lets it go so he can skirt cool fingers up the back of Ducks thighs.

“Then do it.” He purrs, opening his mouth.

“Shit, yes,” Duck shoves back into the delicious, wet warmth, pleasure shooting through his limbs at Indrid's satisfied hum. The resistance of his throat is just barely there, enough to be tight, enough to make him want to ravish it again and again to the music of Indrid's ecstatic moans and chirps and trills. 

He hunches forward again, this time with a purpose, arms and hands sinking into silk pillows. Indrid holds him tight, petting his thighs encouragingly, keeping him steady as he thrusts relentlessly down into his mouth. 

“Indrid, sugar, fuck, gonna come in you so much you’ll be tastin me for days, gonna fuck your throat raw, gonna, fuck, fuckfuck_fuck_.” 

To say the orgasm is intense is a bit like saying a wildfire is hot. Ducks hands fist into the pillows as he comes, Indrid choking slightly at the first burst, then purring as Duck stays put through the aftershocks.

“That’s it, darlin, suck every last bit.” He sighs, smiling when Indrid obeys to the point he’s still licking at him as he pulls out, a rather smug grin on his angular face.

When he tries to shift off of Indrid, his legs are jelly and he succeeds only in toppling backwards.

“Ooof.” 

Indrid laughs, crawling to curl up in his arms, “I shall take that as a sign I did well.”

“No fuckin kiddin.” Duck kisses the top of his head. Indrid turns slightly to kiss him, only to suck in a breath when his cock drags across his upper thigh.

“Apologies” Indrid does not look the least bit sorry, “but the sight of you being so thoroughly pleased by my services-”

Duck snorts at his word choice.

“Is extremely arousing. That’s something I discovered early on in my amorous adventures.”

“Like makin out in trees?”

Indrid puts on a haughty air, “perhaps. Or perhaps they were long sessions surrounded by the finest bedding in a castle somewhere.”

Duck raises an eyebrow.

“......yes, alright, it was in a tree.” He cracks a smile, and laughter soon follows. Duck shakes with giggles, the high noises bounding from stone to stone in the room. When they finally manage to catch their breath, Indrid is up on his elbow, staring down at him.

“I adore the way you look when you laugh.” He kisses him chastely, “Though, I must admit my curiosity about how you look while doing, ah, other activitiesOHohohhhhh.” His groan ends in a chirp as Duck places a hickey on his neck, attacks his face and neck with kisses and lovebites until they’re once again a tangle of limbs, laughing and moaning in equal measure. 

“Fuck me.” It’s a whisper, even though Duck is surer of it than he’s been of anything in years.

“Gladly.” Indrid ruts against his belly a few times, nipping his lip and then slipping from the bed, retrieving a bottle of Scarlet Oil, the favorite companion of those who want to fuck without fear of illness or discomfort. 

“Now, my sweet, how would you like to be while I prepare you? Oh, _excellent_ choice.” He sits between Ducks legs once the shorter man has rolled onto his stomach.

A finger teases his entrance, then pushes in and he tenses, remembering how long it’s been since he tried this himself. Indrid hums soothingly, rubbing his lower back. 

“That’s it, let me in. Oh my dear, I cannot wait to make you mine.”

Duck rubs his forehead against the pillow with a whine.

“You like that, don't you Duck? The thought of me doing this so well you’ll never want another?”

“Oh gods” He bites the pillow as Indrid adds the second finger.

“I like it too. It’s all I’ve wanted for weeks. To take you, to watch every muscle in this” he draws and ‘S’ along Ducks back with his nails, “delicious frame tense and shudder, to hear that charming drawl of yours crack as you demand more, as you become absolutely ruined, and all because of me.”

“Yes, Indrid, please gods yes.” The third finger teases his rim, but when he pushes back to take it, Indrid presses his ass down to keep it still.

“Ah ah, not so fast.”

“Indrid for fucks sake you don’t gotta be that gentle, I aint-”

“-made of glass? No, sweet one, you are not. You are far finer, and far sturdier too. But if you think for a moment I am going to risk you any discomfort, you are sorely mistaken” His voice takes on that same, dominant timbre as he leans down and bites the back of Ducks neck.

“H-hOW is that not discomfort?”

“Because it is pain that you like and want.” Now the third finger is in, curving and scissoring along with the others. They brush a certain spot and Duck yelps, arching off the bed.

“Ah, there it is. That will come in quite handy later.” Indrid withdraws his hand, and as the slick sound of oil on skin reaches Duck he adds, “I want to see that handsome face when we do this. Will you grant me th- ah it seems you will.” He smiles lovingly as Duck rolls onto his back so quickly he gets dizzy. Indrid bends down, kissing him gratefully as he spreads him open and pushes in. 

“Fuuuck” Duck grits his teeth, the intrusion welcome but still a bit odd and overwhelming. 

“Can you take more?” 

“Yes, ‘Drid, fuck, I want all of it, shit, yeah, yes, ‘Drid, sugarAH.” When Indrid bottoms out the sensation is enough to end his babbling.

“I rather like that version of my name.” The shifting of Indrids hips is minute, giving Duck a chance to adjust. He hooks his legs over Indrids, desperate for every bit of his skin to feed warmth to Indrids own. 

“You feel divine my sweet.” He starts with short, gentle ins and outs, never pulling more than an inch or two away before thrusting back in. Duck whimpers.

“Do I feel good as well?” 

Duck locks eyes with him, and understands. 

“Yeah, sugar, you do. You feel fuckin incredibleOH, fuck, heh, fuck, feel even better when I start sweet-talkin you. Think I got your number, darlin.”

“As if you, ah gracious, do not turn to putty the moment I say something like” his voice becomes a growl, “you are mine and I will take such good care of you, you will never want to be without my cock.”

“Aint, fuck, fuck, ain’t my fault your so godsdamn handsome that I want you to fuckin take me and I never wanna look at anythin else.”

Indrid moans louder, movements sharpening to the point that the impact ripples up Ducks belly. 

“Say that first part again.” 

“Ain’tAH, sure I can remember it.” Duck teases.

“Please” It’s a pleading chirr, Indrid fucking him eagerly in hopes of swaying him. As if Duck couldn’t be swayed just by the other man smiling at him. 

Then again….

“Got a good reason why I should?” Duck squeezes Indrid's ass, making him chirp.

“I’ll treat you so well, goodness, Duck, sweet one, I’ll praise every inch of you, tell you how honored I am to be the first to have you this way, kiss you every morning-”

“-you already, oh fuck, do that last one.”

“Please” Indrid trills, “ohpleasepleaseplease.” The angle of his thrusts changes, hitting just the right spot and Duck shouts in surprise and delight.

“FUCK! Fuckin yes, ‘Drid, want you to take me, fuck me, however you, fuck, want me to say it, want to be yours sugar, want you to fuckin make me know it too.”

The words have the desired effect and more, Indrid yanking him into a ferocious kiss, pace punishing and cock pounding into him with short, animalistic jerks. His own cock catches between their stomachs, the swiftness of Indrids movements driving him towards a second orgasm.

“Drid, I’m, I’m fuck, _shit_ nevermind, oh gods” Duck spills between them.

“See” Indrid purrs in his ear, “I know how to treat you well.”

“Uh huh” Duck shuts his eyes,going hazy with sensitivity and being wanted “‘s why I’m gonna let you come in me.” 

“Oh yes, my sweet, thank you, thank you for letting me be the first come in this, goodness, lovely ass, yes darling, yesyesyes.” He comes, pawing and petting Duck as he does, little thank yous echoing from his mouth with each pulse of his hips. 

Indrid pulls out but otherwise stays put, shaking in Ducks arms.

“Did that, was I, I wasn’t too rough?”

“You were fuckin perfect. My, uh, inexperience didn’t bother you none?”

“Duck, I adored every second of that. And quite frankly, whether you were as untouched as fresh snow or had enjoyed a multitude of partners, your experience could never bother me.”

Duck goes to roll them into a more comfortable position and immediately notices the cum drying on his stomach.

“Ugh, fuck.”

“Care to join me for a bath, my sweet?”

“Like you read my mind, sugar.”

Their evening is one of pure bliss, the two of them soaking in the springs on the lower level of the washroom, kissing lazily in the steam. Indrid makes a simple dinner as Duck tidies up the strewn clothes and dirty blankets, and as they eat they discuss the possibility of an outing deeper into the woods sometime soon. Indrid draws in bed, and while Duck tries to read, he soon curls up beside Indrid and falls asleep to the scratching of a pen and familiar fingers gently petting his hair.   
\----------------------------------------------------  
At the opening of the cave, a figure stands in the darkness, dressed in black. He regards the jagged stones around the entrance, made all the more menacing by the cloudless night.  
He looks over his shoulder into the woods, shakes his head.

“I cannot believe you talked me into this.”

And then he steps into the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may be slow over the next week, due to travel and some other projects (one of which you'll get to see...one day).


	7. Bitter Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck makes a discovery. Aubrey has a reunion. Indrid makes a plan.

It’s overcast the next morning, and so Duck and Indrid dawdle in bed, Duck content to smooth his hands along Indrid’s angular body while the other man chirrs softly and plants languid kisses across his skin.

Then Indrid stiffens, and mutters, “drat.”

“What’s wrong sugar?”

“I foresee a rather troublesome future, and I need to alert Mama and Hollis to the matter right away.” He reluctantly stands, pulls on a loose tunic and pants.

“I’ll come with. Need to stop by and borrow some books from Thacker anyway, and that’s right next door.”

They walk arm in arm through the tunnels and out into the spring storm, Indrid using a remarkably large parasol to shield them both. Duck waves Hollis down on the way, ushering them into Mama’s office.

“Hollis,” Indrid says with a conspiratorial look, “How do you feel about a little hunting mission?”  
\----------------------------------------  
Duck’s sorting through Thackers books on tree diseases when Indrid steps into the library.

“Mama is going to be asking for your help shortly.”

“You foresee that or did she tell you?”

“I foresaw. It’s well, she’s about to walk in and-”

“Duck, I need your help. Grab Aubrey on your way over, because if I gotta try to get information outta this fella any longer I’m gonna lose my damn mind.”

Soon, they’re standing in front of one of the few holding cells in this part of Sylvain, Mama rubbing her temples. 

“Right, he ain’t dangerous, didn’t even put up a fight when Hollis and them grabbed ‘im, so I ain’t worried about that. Go on in. Indrid, you mind spendin some time makin sure there ain’t anyone comin in after him?

“Of course.”

Duck and Aubrey exchange a confused look, open the door, and find…

“Ned?”  
“Duck! Delightful to see you again old friend, and such a joy to see you are still living.” Ned Chicane, owner of the Cryptonomica, one of the least reputable businesses this side of the mountains, sits before them. In place of his usual stylish, bright colored clothes, is an outfit that’s entirely black. 

“No wonder Mama looks so exhausted.” Aubrey relaxes, sits down in one of the available chairs. 

“On the contrary, I thought our conversations were quite enjoyable. As you both know I am a master of the art of conversation.”

Duck shakes his head with a fond chuckle, “Art of bullshit, maybe. Ned, what the fuck are you doin sneakin around the caves?”

“Simply collecting information for the museum. What better to draw the eye of curious travelers than artifacts from the monsters lair?”

Aubrey and Duck make the exact same expression.

“Come now my friends, don’t you believe me?”

“Nope.”

“Nuh uh.” Aubrey flicks a flame from palm to palm.

“No offense Ned, but you ain’t what I’d call a brave man. You wanted to tell people you had rocks from the monster caves or whatever, you’d just grab some from your backyard and be done with it. Not risk gettin eaten.”

“It would appear there’s no risk of that whatsoever.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that. Wait, unless, fuck did you?”

“No, I did not. I was in fact a bit confused when it was young Hollis who intercepted me and not some monstrous being.”

“It’s because the ‘monstrous’ beings have work to do.” Barclays voice adds from behind them. He and Stern are side by side in the doorway, wearing equally unamused expressions.

“Well, hello there good sir. Might you be interested in me acquiring some sketches of you for the cryptonomica? Perhaps you could even put in appearan-”

“No.” Barclay says, before bending to kiss Stern’s cheek, “good luck babe.” He ducks out, and Stern remains standing, hands clasped behind his back. Duck recognizes that look, and wishes he’d brought something to eat while watching the clash of Ned’s unmatched lying and Stern’s inquisitive talents. 

“I take it neither of you believe the story he told Mama?”

“Nope” the duo says in unison, Ned shooting them a small glare.

“In that case, Mr. Chicane-”

“Please, call me Ned.” The older man smiles. 

“Fine, Ned, can you please drop that pretense and just tell us what happened?’

Ned looks between then three of them then sighs, resigned, “I’m afraid the truth does not show me in a particularly good light.”

“Ned” Aubrey stands, rests a hand on his shoulder, “we’re your friends. Or, at least, like, your acquaintances. Point is, you can tell us, and we’ll only judge you a little. If that.”

“Very well. The Cryptonomica has not been generating much income of late. And trying to pickpockets or commit other petty crime is too high risk. And so, I fell upon the idea that perhaps there were valuables left behind in the, uh, the bones of those who were sacrificed.”

Duck grimaces, Stern narrows his eyes, and Aubrey loops an arm around Ned’s shoulders with a slap.

“Yep, definitely judging you for that one, buddy."  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
Duck follows the green light towards Barclay’s home. He’s nearly memorized the route there, but he prefers not to chance it and waste time getting lost. As he walks he ponders over their conversation with Ned. Stern in particular had seemed deep in thought once it ended, though Mama, Indrid, and the others all agreed that Ned would have to stay under lock and key for the time being. It doesn’t sit right with Duck, but he knows they can’t risk him running back to Kepler and bringing their whole world crashing down. 

His errand is about a far less dire matter; he wants to see if Stern has book they both loved when they were younger, about a traveler who navigated the five seas and kept a detailed account of his adventures.

Barclays home is closer to the meadow, not entirely enclosed in the cave like his is, and so it has a normal, wooden door, which happens to be half ajar when Duck steps through it.  
It’s only when he glimpses the room beyond that it occurs to him he should have knocked.

Stern is standing bare chested (Indrid having made him a disguise that gave him a body he felt more at home in). Barclay is kneeling in front of him, a copper collar on his neck connected to a silver lead in Sterns hand. He’s still in his Sylph form. 

“Well, big guy, do you think you’ve earned your reward?”

Barclay growls, kissing his stomach.

And that’s all Duck sees, because he backs out of the house in a hurry. He winds back down the tunnels, lost in thought. He knew he and Indrid were far from the only human and Sylph to go to bed together. But his assumption was that the Sylphs used their human forms. 

He remembers Indrid holding him during their ruse a week ago. The way his claws pricked his skin, the sharp teeth and long tongue, all dripping with menace but delivering only promises of sweetness that made him shiver. How trapped he was, how small he felt, and how he never wanted Indrid to free him. 

Maybe it’s understood that humans who partner with Sylphs like Dani, or like Barclay, are not strange, because those Sylphs are still some degree of human in how they look. But Indrid, wings and mandibles and undeniably inhuman...no, surely even the most accepting Sylphs and humans think a human who desires that is strange.

Still, as he reaches home, he imagines four clawed hands gripping him, overpowering him, Indrid growling, that same desire to please and dominate Duck all at once pouring out of his Sylph form. 

Has the house always been this hot?

“Any luck?”

“GAH!”

“Oh, I’m sorry my sweet, I thought you saw me.” Indrid’s assumption makes perfect sense, given that he’s sitting at his desk, in plain sight of Duck, drawing.

“Sorry, sugar, was kinda lost in thought. And, uh, they, uh, they weren’t, fuck, they were home but not, fuck.”

Indrid leans back in his chair, smile soft and easy, clearly deciding not to point out the lie,“well, in that case I could use a break from sketching futures before we meet with the others, oh, oh my hello.” Indrid laughs as Duck straddles his lap, kissing his neck needfully. 

“‘Drid…”

“Yes, Duck?”

“I wanna go to bed with you, darlin, so bad.”

“Hmmmm” Indrid leans back, looking him up and down, before peering at him over his glasses,“I fear we might not have enough time for that”

Duck whines, grinds down in his lap

Indrid’s grin shifts, becomes wickedly indulgent, “But when you look at me like that, how can I deny you what you crave? You may continue to do that” he pulls Duck down, rolls his hips, “as much as you wish, while I finish this.” He moves a picture to his right, so he can access it even with Duck in his lap, “Would you like that, my sweet?”

Duck groans, rolling his hips in response. 

“Good.” Indrid returns to his drawing. Duck buries his face in his neck, jerks his hips frantically. It feels best when he makes contact with Indrids leg, and so he shifts to focus his thrusts on the hint of muscle beneath the layers of fabric. Mouths at cool skin just as Indrids left hand dances down his back, petting him. 

“Does that feel good?”

“Uh huh, fuck, thank you darlin, thank you for lettin me, you’re so good to me.” His words cut off into a whine as Indrid presses his thigh up ever so slightly. 

“Come on, sweet one, show me how good I am too you.”

Duck throws his arms around Indrids neck, making him chirp and nuzzle him. 

“I’m close sugar, just need a little more OWohhhhhhh” Indrid bites his shoulder and he comes, wet spreading across the front of his trousers. It would be humiliating, being a mewling and panting mess, if Indrid’s arms were not around him.

“That was very good, my sweet. I do so adore when you show me just how many ways I can be used for your pleasure.”

“M’so happy.” He slurrs, kissing slowly at Indrids upper arms. 

“As am I.” Indrid sighs, hugging him close.

“Y’want me to make you some tea while you finish drawin?”

“That would be lovely” Indrid meets his eyes, “my love.”

The new name sends light and warmth fizzing through Ducks blood. He smiles back, “You got it, my love.”  
\------------------------------------  
“I believe it has to do with the sacrifices.” Stern leans against Mama’s desk. It’s been several days since Ned came creeping around, and they’re still all convinced he’s leaving something out. 

“You think he’s lookin for one?” Mama asks.

“No, not quite. But he went out of his way to not mention the White Roses. Which suggests he doesn’t want us so much as thinking about them in the same sentence as his motives. And where White Roses are involved, sacrifices are usually part of the story.”

The rest of the room nods.

“So, what, we send someone in to try and spy on every White Rose until we figure out which one is wrapped up with Ned?” Aubrey rubs at a soot mark on her jacket. 

“I believe so.” Indrid says, “The futures show that as having the best chance of sending us in the right direction. Or, at least, a more expedient one than trying to get information out of Ned. I recommend myself, Hollis, Jake, and a few Hornets go. We can spread out through Kepler and see what we can learn. Between their skills and my foresight, we should be able to find what we need. I imagine it will take at most three days.”

As they head out to gather supplies or return to their other tasks, Indrid leans down and whispers in Duck’s ear, “I expect three days will give you plenty of time to come up with even more amorous ideas, my love.”  
\-------------------------------------  
Duck and Thacker stand in what was, only a few days ago, a thriving grove of Oak and Ash trees.

“Thoughts?” Duck says.

“Nada.” Thacker replies.

“Fuck.”

“Yep.”

“Duck!” They turn to find Jake sprinting towards them, waving his arms frantically, “Duck, we’ve got a big, big problem dude!” 

“What?”

“It’s Indrid, he showed his Sylph form and went all” Jake roars, flaps his arms like wings.

“Fuck, shit, where is he, is he okay?”

“No Dude,” Jake grips his shoulders, “he’s been captured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates still slow, no way am I am chancing writing smutty fanfic around my in-laws.


	8. You're Made of Darkness and Fire, My Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned helps. Duck plans. Indrid fights.

“If I tell you that you ain’t gonna be part of the rescue party, how likely is it that you’ll try somethin bone-headed and try to rescue him anyway?”

“I, uh, I won’t, fuck, won’t not try, fuck, nothin-”

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought.” Mama sighs, before turning from Duck to Aubrey, “you sure you want in?”

“Um, yeah? I can do magic, which seems like it’d be really helpful. Plus, they don’t think I’m dead; they just know I ran away.”

“Fine, then it’s gonna be you two and Barclay-”

“Um, Mama?” Jake pipes up from where he’s sitting, still shaken, “I don’t, like, want to worry anyone but, like, I started feeling weird too while we were out there. Like, I felt really angry and scared, like I needed to take off my disguise so I could fight.”

“Fuck, okay.” Mama rubs her temples, “we need another human then. If this is something affectin Sylphs, we shouldn’t risk any more of y’all goin feral or some shit. Stern?”

“I’ll go if need be, but sending one supposedly-dead human is already very high risk.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” 

“No, Ned.” Say Mama and Barclay in unison.

Ned continues, “In my, shall we say, less than reputable past I knew how to break into every building in Kepler. If they are keeping Indrid somewhere secure, you will need someone on your side who can get you into that building without drawing attention.”

“Or who will take the chance to bolt.” Barclay adds. 

Ned meet’s Ducks gaze, “My friends, I will not deny that I have been self-serving more times than is honorable. But I need you to believe me when I say I have no loyalty to our purity-focused overlords on the outside of these mountains. I want to help you. I want to help the people I care for.”

“It’s up to you and Aubrey, Duck. It’s your necks that you’re riskin if you take Ned fuckin Chicane’s help.”

Duck looks at Aubrey. Aubrey Nods. And Ned smiles.   
\------------------------------------------  
“How many guards do you count?” Duck whispers from their hiding place in the trees.

“Six.” Aubrey replies.

A screech fills the air, and Duck only just fights the urge to bolt towards it. 

“I swear to fuck, if they’ve hurt him I’m gonna break some more noses.”

“Discretion is the better part of valor, my friend.”

“How is that even applicable here?”

“Shush you guys, I’m trying to use my third eye to figure out where Indrid is.”

“.....Third eye?” Ned blinks at Aubrey. 

“Yep. Uh, huh, it’s picking up all sorts of magical stuff in that building.”

“What the fuck is magical stuff doin in the basement of city hall?”

“Contraband, perhaps?” Ned whispers, biting at his thumbnail. Duck knows that gesture.

Ned’s nervous.

“Got it!” Aubrey hisses excitedly, “Indrid is on the far left side of the building on the lowest level. Everybody remember the plan?”

“Yep.”

“Indeed.”

Duck and Ned keep to the woods until they reach the back of the building, just in time for Aubrey to set off a small flare of purple fire in her hand. The two guards at the rear door sprint towards the commotion, disappearing around the corner. 

Ned sets to work on the lock, Duck keeping lookout as his silently works the tumblers into place. 

“Always wanted to try a sleeping spell on these jerks; worked like a charm.” Aubrey grins, dragging the last of the sleeping guards into the bushes, “Ned, can you keep watch on the time? We have twenty minutes before it wears off.”

Ned nods just as the door swings open.

“Still got it.” 

They move as quickly as they can without making noise, following a steep stone staircase down into the basement. At the bottom, they find three doors: one red, one silver, and one white.

“Perhaps it’s like the old riddles, and we have to determine which door contains our quarry and which leads to certain doom.”

“I could use my third eye again.”

_Screeeeatchisss_

“Or we could open the door that came from.” Duck puts his hand on the red door and turns the knob. 

He sees Indrids eyes first, glowing red and worryingly wide in the darkness. Aubrey holds up a small flame, causing Indrid to hiss and the others to gasp.

“What kind of fuckin treasure trove-”

“Oh my gods, there’s so much arcane magic in here, Janelle would kill for some of these items. Er, not really though, she’s not, like, super violent.”

“As much as I enjoy a good hoard of wonders, can we please focus on the task at hand?”

Duck heads straight to the corner where Indrid is trapped, his huge Sylph form tangled and pinned under a thick, white net. Some of the fibers are stained red where they’ve made gashes in Indrid’s wings.

“Don’t worry sugar, gonna get you out of here, get you all patched up.” He reaches for the net, only to jump backwards when Indrid claws at him.

“What the fuck? ‘Drid, please, I know you’re scared but it’s me.”

Another hiss, Indrid’s antennae flattening all the way back as his wings try to flare, dragging blood across the net. 

“My friend, I don’t think he recognizes you.” Ned rests a hand on his shoulder.

“But, but he’s, we’re-”

“We’ve got another problem.” Aubrey, taking advantage of Indrid’s focus being elsewhere, touches the net and yanks her hand back like it’s a hot stove, “the net’s enchanted.”

“Can you break it?”

“I can try.” Aubrey inhales, exhales, holds out her hands to hover a safe distance from the net and the furious creature within it. 

Then she promptly passes out cold on the floor, snuffing out the light as she does. 

“Shit!” Ned drops down, checking her for injuries. 

“Fuck, okay, shit, there’s gotta be somethin in here that’ll work. Ned, you keep tryin to rouse her, I’ll see what I can find.”

He hurls open cabinets, slides drawers out that contain glittering amulets that will do fuck-all to help, finds bottles labeled in languages he can’t read. At last he opens a chest piled with weapons; knives, bows and arrows, a few short spears and….

…..a hilt that definitely belongs to a broadsword.

He grips, tugs it from the box and as he does the blade unfurls, glittering even in the darkness, radiating power, bending like a lightening strike. It feels right in his hand, like it was meant for him. 

“Duck Neeeeewton.”

“Gahfuck!” He drops the sword to the ground, peering to discover a mouth on the other side of the hilt. A mouth that curves into a disturbingly toothy grin.

“Such a display of heroism, Duck Neeeeewton, no wonder it took you ages to claim me.”

“What the fuck?”

“Weeeell, do you intend to stand there looking like a buffoon, or do you intend to use me for my purpose?”

“As much as I hate that voice, my friend, we are running short on time.”

Duck carefully picks up the sword, turns back towards the net, Indrid growling.

“Ned, if ‘Drid ain’t all in there, he’s gonna attack us.”

“I am aware of that possibility.”

“And I’m gonna make sure he goes after me, not you two. You wait til we’re out of here, then get Aubrey and yourself back to Sylvain.”

“I promise I will do my utmost to follow that plan.”

“Plan’s a pretty generous word for it.” With that he raises the blade, striking the net three times before it snaps, and in a flurry of ripping and shredding Indrid is free. He looks at Ned and Aubrey, then at Duck. They’re close enough that Duck could reach out and stroke his cheek.

Duck punches him. 

An irate hiss hits his back as he tears out of the room and up the stairs, sword still in hand. Much as he hates to admit it, Indrid’s injury works in his favor, slows the Sylph down so that even as Duck races through the woods there’s still a safe distance between them. He twists and zigzags along his path, hoping to wrong-foot him, let’s out a whoop of triumph when he sees the cave opening ahead of him. 

His footfalls echo along the stone as he runs into the darkness. There’s no answering sound of Indrids’ steps beneath them. 

There is, however, the sound of wingbeats. 

Indrid drops down onto him with all his weight, shrieking and clawing and sending the sword clattering into the shadows. Duck grabs one set of hands, holding them firm while dodging the others. 

“‘Drid, please, I’m beggin you it’s me, it’s _me_.” Tears of pain streak his face in two claws pierce his shoulder. Another catches his cheek, barely missing his eye. Another screech.

“I ain’t even tryin to fight you, I just need you to stop, gods, please stop.” He releases the other two hands, placing his own by his head to show he means no harm.

Indrid pauses, cocks his head.

Then he bares his teeth in a parody of a smile, and closes his hands around Ducks throat. 

The last thing Duck sees is a pair of glowing, red eyes.  
\------------------------------------------------------  
Someone has lit his shoulder on fire. 

That’s the only explanation for what’s happening right now, the heat and the strange, numbing pain shooting through his arm. 

“Is it working?” 

Joe’s voice

“Almost. It might scar, but I think it’ll hold.”

Aubrey. Which means she made it out okay. Which means Ned Chicane kept his word. 

First time for everything.

“How’s Indrid?” Stern’s voice is farther away now.

“Healed as best he can be, Dani helped him get home.” Barclay now, exhausted.

“Is he, y’know?” Duck manages to slur, peeking his eyes open and causing a collective exhale to fill the room.

“He’s back to normal, if that’s what you mean.” Stern says. 

“What the fuck happened to him? And why ain’t I dead?”

“According to Hollis, by the time they responded to the commotion, Indrid was just sort of...over you, and wouldn’t let anyone near. I knocked him out with the same spell I used on the guards. So..you’re not dead because of that?” Aubrey shrugs. 

Duck sits up, touches the new scar on his cheek.

“How soon can I see him?”  
\--------------------------------------------  
Indrid can’t reach several of the cuts on his wings. They sting in the warm water, unable to be soothed with the salve Janelle gave him. 

It’s what he deserves. 

He hurt Duck. His Duck. He came to over his unconscious form, growling and hissing at Hollis as they tried to rescue the human from him. Now Duck will surely leave, and would be right to, and he’ll never be able to look at him again, never touch him, never hear his voice again.

“‘Drid?”

Duck stands at the base of the stairs, in a loose shirt and trousers. 

Indrid waves weakly, winces from the water splashing a cut on his chest. 

“Are you doin okay?”

“I ought to be asking you that.” He murmurs, turning the jar of salve over in his upper hands. 

“Aubrey patched me up. Uh, um, sorry for punchin you.”

The laugh that titters out of him is near-hysterical, “I nearly killed you and you apologize for insuring I only attacked you instead of the others as well?”

“Just cause it was the best option don’t mean it was good.” Duck sits on the slick black stones, dipping his toes into the water. 

“Why did you come to see me?” Indrid tilts his head.

“Because I care about you? And I was worried about you?”

“You aren’t frightened of me?”

“I, uh, fuck, uh, I ain’t, that is, fuck-”

Indrid chirrs in sad understanding, and turns away.

“Look, it scared the seven hells out of me when you attacked me. I was pretty sure you were gonna kill me. But I knew that wasn’t really you.”

“But it _was_. It was what I can become, it is what I am capable of. I am a threat to you, and you deserve to be rid of me.”

“‘Drid, did you feel like yourself when it was happenin?”

“No, in fact I can barely remember anything once I began feeling ill.”

“Then” Duck picks up the jar, “I’m gonna take a gamble and say it weren’t really you. Somethin had a hold of you. And accordin to Janelle, whatever it is can’t get you while you’re here in Sylvain.”

“But I...hurt you.” His antenna go limp.

“No gettin around that. But I blame whatever the fuck got a hold of you, not you.”

Sticky fingers stroke his back, and the cuts on his wings cease to hurt, take on merely a light twinge. 

“I still trust you, sugar. And unless you really need me to, I ain’t plannin on goin anywhere.”

“Please don’t.” He chirps softly. 

Duck rinses his hands in the water, “Want me to join you? Might be easier to look after you if I'm not worryin about toppelin into the water."

“Yes, please.”

There’s a schuff of clothing coming off, and then Duck steps into the pool. 

“Now” he cards gently between Indrids feathers, setting them straight, “any other spots that are hurtin?"

“I was able to reach most of them. Ah, but, well, I keep putting off patching up this one” he points to the gash on his chest, “because it hurts to touch.”

Duck shifts in the water, settles in Indrids lap, “Think I can handle that.” As soon as the salve touches the torn feathers and skin, Indrid hisses softly and tenses. 

“Relax, sugar” Duck strokes his neck and cheek with his free hand, “it’s okay. It stings, but I got you. Gonna stay right here until it stops hurtin.” He finishes drawing a line of silvery ointment, rinses his hand yet again before continuing to pet Indrids face and chest. 

“We had a hell of a day, ‘Drid, but it’ll take a lot more’n that to send me away from you. I’ll take care of you, no matter what.”

He feels so safe, so happy, and his wings relax, opening slightly so Duck can touch them. The human does, starting with the edges as he keeps murmuring sweet, reassuring words.

“We’re partners, we take care of each other. I wanna see you happy darlin, and I love it when you take care of me” fingertips dance along the sensitive parts of his inner wings and he shudders, chirrs happily.

“Can’t wait for us both to heal up, gonna treat you so nice, be so good for you, let you show me just how much you want me, gonna be so sweet until then...uh, ‘Drid?”

Indrid stops rolling his hips, not quite sure when he started. Noticing Duck’s length brushing his own. 

Oh. Oh dear. 

“Um, ah, excuse me, I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine you’d want, ah, I’mgoingtodryoff.” He scrambles from the pool, grabbing a towel and hurrying up towards the bedroom. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t check the futures to see what Duck might call after him.

And he makes very, very sure that he’s “asleep” in the nest in the living room by the time Duck comes up from the bathing area, so that the human knows he has the main nest to himself. 

After all, it will be better for them both that way.


	9. I Hear Heavenly Sounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck gets some things off his chest. Indrid has some...creative ways of helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to TikkiWami and MorganEAshton for some of the ideas in this chapter. 
> 
> Note: Indrid uses the dynamics of pleasing or denying Duck in bed to help him open up about certain things. It's not exactly how I'd recommend it happen in real life, but it fit best with the scenario I set in place.

“Duck Neeewton, are you certain you do not wish to return and spar more? That display was pitiful.”

“Yep, Beacon, I’m sure.” Duck wraps the sword up and chucks it to the far side of the bedroom, and collapses face first into bed. He’s spent the bulk of the past three days training with Stern (“how’d you get this fuckin good?” “I thought I was going to be defending myself from danger on my travels, now fix your stance”) to distract himself from the fact he and Thacker are no closer to determining what’s killing the trees.

And the fact that Indrid has gone back to barely touching him. There are kisses on the cheek or the hand, farewell hugs, the odd cuddle. But Indrid is keeping himself on a short leash, as if he’s afraid any passion might cause him to hurt Duck. 

Not only is his over-correction making Duck hornier than a tri-pointed mountain goat, it’s entered into some kind of horrible dance with the teachings he learned in Kepler. If Indrid thinks it’s bad to for Duck to touch his Sylph form in a sexual way, as his outburst in the spring indicated, then Duck’s desire to do so must be worse and more deviant than he thought. And if that one desire is horrible, then who’s to say the rest of Duck’s desires aren’t as well?

So he exhausts himself through sparring, through research, through practicing knife throwing with Aubrey, through any and all things that may keep his desires at bay. 

Today, however, none of it has been enough. He lays beneath a blanket in the dark bedroom, Indrid asleep in the nest in the living room, and thinks. Thinks about the way Indrid, all skinny limbs and angles, feels on top of him, sweet words dripping from his mouth as he makes Duck feel as though he’s the only thing in the world that matters. Thinks about Indrid, all claws and dark feathers and hunger, trapping him in place to have his way with as he coos that Duck is his now, only his. 

He rolls onto his side, and slips a hand beneath his silken, green pants.   
\--------------------------------------------  
Indrid flops on his stomach in the comfy nest, trying to draw but only making a few lines on the paper. There was a future for this night where he offered to rub Ducks sore muscles, left him melty and happy in bed so he could curl up in his arms. 

He chased that thought off like it was a flying squirrel that had gotten into his cupboard. 

He’s flicking lint from the pillows with a pinky claw when it starts. A smell, like petrichor and wildflowers, tickles his antenna. It’s one of the few powers that’s unique to his Sylph form, this ability to pick up on certain states of being via scent. Humans and Sylphs alike, through some combination of pheromones and various fluids, send out signals that his antenna perceive as a specific emotion. They can’t be felt all the time, the emotion must be strong and concentrated in order for him to pick it up this way. Fear is a common one, as is aggression. 

Right now, though, he’s being flooded with the scent of arousal. And there’s only one place it can be coming from. 

He tilts his head, searching for sounds from the bedroom. There’s a whispering shift of fabric, punctuated by stifled gasps. Then a soft moan, and a word he can’t make out.

At the very least, he should tell Duck he can hear him. He’d want the human to do him the same courtesy. That is, and must be, the only reason he is going in there, he reminds himself as he puts on his glasses.

Duck’s frame twitches and rolls under the blankets and Indrid wants to whip the fabric off him so he can see every detail.

“Please.” Duck whimpers, lips parting to pant the word again, with “Indrid” following on it’s heels. 

He can’t. He’s not even sure what he wants to do, only that he cannot, absolutely must not, do it.

“Please.” Duck bucks his hips forward and Indrid chirrs longingly. 

Mis-matched eyes snap open, pinning him to the spot. Neither speaks a word, until Duck keeps their eyes locked together while he draws his hand down in one, long stroke. 

“Please?” 

Indrid makes the bed in three strides, dives beneath the blanket Duck holds open, and attacks his mouth with kisses. Shoves Ducks hand aside to close his fingers around that lovely, thick cock, the shorter man making him lightheaded as he demands kiss after kiss. 

“‘Thank the fuckin gods” Duck groans when they gasp for air.

“You wicked thing, you got caught on purpose.” Indrid grins, tightens his grip, salivating at the sensation of warm skin, slick with pre-cum, pumping a little more rapidly at those words.

“No, fuck, no I didn’t, honest, thought you were asleep, fuck, please don’t stop.”

“Well in that case, as much as I love this, perhaps I should leave you to it. It was rather rude to disturb youOOOh, ah!” Duck nips and sucks at his neck, clinging to him.

“Don’t you fuckin dare. I been runnin myself ragged tryin not to think about this but, fuck, darlin, it’s all I think about. You’re all I think about OHshit, like that, yeah, fuck.” The last word comes in tandem with its speaker, Duck spilling in Indrids hand. 

The Sylph hugs him close as he comes down from his climax, daintily wiping his hand on a pillow while he waits. 

“Don’t go.” Duck whispers, fists curling on Indrids chest.

The question surprises him, so much that he blurts out, “why is that what you fear?” 

“Because ever since you got back, you ain’t wanted to share a bed with me. And, and it’s alright if you don’t, but I miss it, and I know you’re scared of hurtin me but I’m also startin to think I did somethin to upset you.”

“Oh, oh my sweet, no. You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with me. You are correct, the incident a few days ago was so terrifying I am having some...difficulties returning to normal. I am sorry if that distressed you.”

Duck slowly sits up, though he keeps their hands intertwined, “In the spring, when I was helpin you out and you started gettin, uh, excited and I kept goin, you left in such a hurry and it was my fault. I, I know those desires ain’t right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross a line. 

Indrid blinks at him, confused, as he sits up. Then continues blinking in confusion because many futures all change at once, and he’s having trouble getting his timeline right. 

“I was under the impression you knew I would not judge you for your desires.”

“I know, but ‘Drid, not all of ‘em are things decent people would want.”

“White Rose decent? Or the kind you actually value?’

Duck opens his mouth, then closes it, glances at Indrid with a new, hopeful expression, “Think it’s the first one.”

“In that case, would you care to tell me about them?”

“Honestly? Not sure I can without gettin horny again.”

“That is hardly an issue. In fact, I think I have a way to incorporate this discussion into an, ah, more erotic dynamic.”

“Shit, okay” Duck grins excitedly, “what should I do?”

Indrid kisses him softly, pets his mussed hair, “remove all your clothes and lay on your back.”

As Duck yanks off his pants, Indrid steps off the bed to a redwood chest on the back wall of the room. He smirks as he opens it; so many treasures, each with such potential to make the man behind him shudder and scream with pleasure. As he sifts through them in search of his quarry, he idly wonders if he could use them all on Duck at once or, at least, during one evening. Tucks that idea away for another time, a time when Duck feels like being completely at his mercy. Tonight, he wants to focus on Duck feeling safe and understood above all else. 

He finds a mid-sized, silver ring, a bottle of Scarlet Oil, and two long, green ribbons, and carries them back to the bed. 

“Hands above your head, please.” 

Duck obeys, and Indrid kneels on the floor at the head of the nest, nudges the bottom aside to find the first of several brass rings tucked into the stones. With practiced ease, he ties both ribbons to the ring, guides the smooth fabric up by Ducks head. 

“May I bind your wrists, my sweet?”

“Hells yeah.” Duck is lifting his left wrist before Indrid is done speaking. Indrid wraps the fabric around it, ties a simple knot, and presses a kiss to the base of the palm just to hear Duck sigh when he does. He gives the right hand the same treatment, kisses Ducks forehead before standing.

“Now” He removes his loose nightshirt, “if at any point you need me to stop, or something becomes uncomfortable, I expect you to tell me. I cannot take care of you if I can’t be sure you’re enjoying yourself.” He folds his pants, then tosses them aside as he awaits an answer.

“I will, sugar, I promise.” Duck’s eyes are like festival sparklers, and he looks so excited, so trusting, that Indrid’s cock twitches in anticipation. 

“Good” He climbs back in bed and chuckles when Duck immediately spreads his legs, “my sweet, lovely Duck, making it so easy for me to make him scream.”

Duck whimpers and Indrid runs his nails lightly up his thighs, “Will you tell me what you were imagining when I found you touching yourself?”

“I…” A blush flashes up his cheeks.

“Duck, I will indulge you in any way you wish. But, though I am a seer, I cannot read minds. Won’t you tell me?” He coos. 

“I...ain’t sure you’ve earned that yet.” Duck is grinning, so very pleased with himself, and every nerve in Indrid’s body pings with desire to prove his worth. 

“Wicked thing.” He purrs, “making me work for my pleasure.”

“Hey, makin me work for mine too.”

“Oh, my sweet, you will do no such thing.” He clambers atop his lover, kissing him soundly. Tracks constellations of kisses down his skin, Duck pushing his body up to meet each one.   
By the time he reaches his navel, Duck’s cock is trying valiantly to perk up. Indrid nips his right hip, sucking until Duck squeaks. Nuzzles his way over to his cock, kisses and licks at it as he teases Ducks balls, until it’s finally hard.

“‘Drid.” It’s breathy, but there’s something playful beneath it. 

“Yes, my love?”

“You really think all that teasin’s gonna get you want you want?”

Indrid growls playfully, and swallows him down to the root. 

“FUCK how do you keep _doin_ that?”

He pulls back, “I’m not entirely sure this form has a gag reflex.” Then drops down again.

“Shhhit.” Duck twists in the restraints, he can tell by the clink of the ring on stone, “I, I tried learnin to do this, wanted, wanted to be able to fuck, fuck, show off, but never got the hang of it.”

Indrid lifts his head, thumbs at the tip of Ducks cock, “While it’s certainly not a necessary trick in order for me to enjoy that delicious mouth of yours, I’d be happy to teach you how.”

“Mmmm, you got a deal, sugar. Maybe, fuck, maybe then I’ll tell you what I was thinkin of.”

“Oh my sweet” Indrid pouts, “would you really make me wait so long?”

“Guess you’ll have to find ou-FUCK, oh fuckohgods.”

Indrid grins as he bobs his head, taking Duck all the way each time before drawing up with a hard suck. Duck starts thrusting, only for Indrid to gently pin his hips down. The man groans, but submits, and Indrid rewards him with a hum. Laps at the base for a moment while continuing the sound.

“Shit, I’m real fuckin close but I don’t, don’t wanna come yet, fuck, darlin, wanna spend all night doin this.”

Indrid sits up, wiping his mouth, and closes his hand around the shaft, stroking it hard and fast, purring when Ducks hands ball into fists.

“‘Drid!” He whines without losing his smile. 

“You know what to do to get what you want.”

“I, I, I wasn’t, fuck, it wasn’t, it ain’t-”

“Duck.” Indrid warns, tightening his grasp. 

“I was thinkin about you!”

“That’s not nearly specific enough, my sweet.” He peeks at the futures, finds they only have fifteen seconds before Duck comes. 

“I was thinkin about things, s-so many fuckin things, gods, how I wanna know what it feels like to have your cock down my throat all night, wanna bend you over without warnin and fuck you until you collapse, want you to call me every name you can think of even if it ain’t nice.”

“Goodness.” Indrid’s hand left Ducks cock as soon as he started listing fantasies, settles on absentmindedly caressing his own.

“I want you to fuck me in your lap while you tease me for bein needy, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck you when you’re all tied up and can’t get away, wanna be tied up like this and make you kiss every fuckin inch of me before I even look at your cock.” He’s trying to cover his face but the ropes prevent it, giving Indrid an unobstructed view of his embarrassed smile, his blush, the way he licks his lips at each filthy thought. 

“There’s, there’s more, but I ain’t even sure we could get through it all tonight, was that, did I?”

“You did well, my sweet Duck.” Indrid straddles him, kisses a curve from his cheek down to his lips, leaves a soft one on each of his eyelids when his eyes close with a sigh.

“That was all very enlightening.”

“Felt real fuckin good too.” Duck kisses the shell of his ear, “Can we keep goin?”

“Of course. Would you like me to untie you before we continue?” 

Duck shakes his head, sending strands of hair across his brow.

“In that case, I think it’s time for a lesson.” He trails his finger along Ducks lips, “but first...” 

The silver ring is right where he left it. He taps it once and it opens, allowing him to fit it to the base of Ducks cock. He taps it again and it closes in a perfect fit.

“This ring is enchanted, and will keep the wearer hard and them from reaching orgasm no matter how intensely their body demands it.”

Duck’s eyes are nearly all pupil at this point, and Indrid laughs, “My, someone likes that idea.”

“You know it.” Duck bumps their noses together when Indrid leans down to kiss him. When the Sylph sits up, he crawls so he’s straddling Ducks upper chest. 

“Open your mouth.”

“Say please.” Duck drawls.

“Please open that sinful mouth of yours so I can do obscene things to it.” Indrid purrs.

“Thought the whole point was that none of this was sinMHuph.” Indrid shoves a few inches in, keeping an eye on the futures to be sure he won’t accidentally harm the man beneath him. Duck moans so loudly that Indrid wonders if he needs to put up a silencing spell. 

“So far so good, my sweet?”

Duck manages a nod, sucks greedily and Indrid trills.

“Good.” He cups the back of Ducks head with both hands, “now, I want you to focus solely on relaxing your muscles. Your jaw, your throat, your neck, let them all go a loose.”

Duck’s jaw goes slack almost immediately, but he can still feel tension beneath his fingers. 

“Don’t worry about keeping your head up, I will manage that.” 

Slowly, the weight of Duck’s head settles in his hands.

“You’re doing well my love. Next, remember to keep breathing through your nose. Yes, oh _yes_.” On Ducks next inhale he pushes further, nudging the back of his throat. Massages Ducks head and neck, murmuring compliments, as he manages the last little bit. Ducks throat offers some resistance but, just like the man himself, yields readily to Indrid.

“Ta da” He murmurs, grinning at how pleased with himself Duck looks when he’s able to nuzzle Indrids stomach. Gingerly, Indrid guides his head back an inch before pushing it forward, Duck moaning the entire time. Does it again to be sure Duck can manage, then steadily, deliberately, Indrid drags his head back and forth, timing his thrusts so that when he pushes in, Ducks head comes forward to meet him. 

“See my love, even when I am taking my pleasure, I gladly do all the work.”

“Mhmmmph” Duck somehow manages a knowing smirk.

“I, oh, oh gracious, I don’t care how many you’ve this with before now. As far as I am concerned, this sweet mouth and tight little throat are mine.”

Duck whines, back arching and hips pumping pointlessly in the air. Indrid laughs, tilts his head back and fucks him harder, relishing the wet moans bursting from his chest. The temptation to come now, watch Ducks eyes prickle with happy tears as he spills down his throat, is high. 

But there’s something Indrid wants even more. 

He pulls all the way out, Duck straining to follow him even as he gasps for air.

“Did that meet your desires?” Indrid searches the blankets for the bottle of oil.

“Uh huh, fuck, didn’t know suckin cock could turn me on like thaaAAt.” He flops backwards when Indrid runs an oil-coated hand up and down his cock, “Godsdamn, how the fuck are you makin me feel in charge and willin to do any fuckin thing you asked at the same time?"

“Practice?” It’s the only answer he can articulate. Everything else is a swirl of emotions and instincts, of feeling like Duck is a brand new enchantment that Indrid somehow knows by heart, even as he explores the intricacies of it. 

“Oughta send the fells who came before me flowers thenAH, shit, _shit_ you’re tight.”

Indrid chirrs in agreement, too focused on fitting Duck inside him to bother with words. With no preparation, the stretch is uncomfortable at first, even though he deeply enjoys the feeling of his muscle giving, of allowing someone he loves to enter him in such an intimate way. 

No, not just “someone.” Duck, his wonder, brave Duck, spread out beneath him like an offering, tensed muscles visible in his arms and shoulders as he grips the ribbons, belly shaking slightly with the effort of not thrusting upwards.

“I know my sweet” Indrid skates his fingers along his belly as he wiggles further, “my ass is truly wonderful and you wish to fuck it without delay.”

“You got, shit, got that right.”

“It’s adorable how you think you’ll be the one setting the AH, the pace.” He makes it all the way down, Duck groaning when he rocks forward and back, searching for his rhythm. As he does, he glimpses a certain chain of futures setting and resetting in rapid succession. Duck is saying something, face bright pink, then he isn’t, then he is, and round and round and round again. In a flash, Indrid understands. 

“Duck, you really are wicked.” He rolls his hips more firmly.

“How, OH, how’s that?”

“You’ve kept the most interesting fantasy from me, haven’t you.”

“No, uh, fuck, uh, there ain’t, ain’t-” Duck shuts his eyes, squares his shoulders, “you ain’t gettin that one unless you really earn it.”

“And how shall I do that?” Indrid leans forward, hips moving languidly as he kisses Ducks chest.

Duck shrugs in feigned disinterest. 

Indrid sniffs in mock huffiness, and sits up straight. 

“Aww, don’t look put out sugarAHhhhhhfuck, FUCK!”

Indrid laughs as he bounces up and down, chirping each time the base of Ducks cock thuds against his body. Duck laugh-moans, wanton and ecstatic.

“I’m so lucky, goodness, that I get to ride you like this whenever I please. Oh, yes, yes my sweet, I love how thick you are, it makes me feel so wonderfully full.”

“Sweet, fuck, sweet talkin’s nice, but it won’t get you anywhere.”

Indrid growls, drops down to kiss him as he jams his hips up and down. He switches rapidly between bites and caresses, tugging Ducks lip with his teeth even as he gently teases his nipples, scratching his sides even as he peppers his face with kisses. 

A whine reaches his ears, and the tempo of the thrusts into him changes. 

“Something you need?”

“I, I need to come, been so close for fuckin ever, wanna fill that cute little ass up, ‘Drid, please.”

“Hmmmmm” Indrid sits up, tapping his chin, “no.” He fucks himself on Duck as hard as he dares, the other man thrashing with a frustrated moan. Indrid flicks sweat from his forehead, grinning down at him expectantly.

“I want you to fuck me in your Sylph form!” 

They both freeze, Indrid in shock and Duck in apprehension, his whole body shaking now. 

“_Yes_.” Indrid moans.

“R-really?” 

“You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

Relief floods Ducks face. 

Indrid's smile moves from reassuring to hungry, “Is there more?”

“I want you to, to be real mean with me when you’re like that, oh, shit, you really do like this idea.”

“Yes, don’t stop talking about it please.” Indrid pauses to remove the ring, then resumes bouncing frantically, stroking his own cock as he does. 

“I want you to rough me up and fuck me like I’m yours, like all I’m good for is bein a toy for you to throw around and play with, like you can do whatever you want and all I can do is beg and take it and, and, oh fuck ‘Drid.” Indrid chirrs as Duck comes in him, gets a surge of satisfaction as his cum spatters across Ducks body. 

“Thank you, thank you…” Duck pants as Indrid climbs off him and begins undoing his bonds. The human continues whimpering thanks and profanity as Indrid helps him sit up, rubbing his wrists and hands and kissing the slight red marks left from the ribbons. 

“Are you alright, my love?”

“Alright? ‘Drid that was, you were amazin, I feel so much better, gods” he giggles, “can’t believe I admitted all that.”

“I’m glad you did. And I am glad that you trust me enough to share them, and to let me do such things with you.”

“You really wanna do all those things?” Duck gives him a dreamy smile.

“Yes, although we’ll need to discuss them in more detail to be sure we do them in a way that is safe for us. But that is for another time. Right now, I need to spoil you.”

“Uhh, and all that was….?”

“A different form of spoiling. And it was intense and new for you.”

“Yeah.” Duck sighs happily. 

“I want to look after you in the wake of it, in case the intensity brings up unwanted feelings.”

“Ah” Duck nods in understanding, “okay. But you gotta let me spoil you back.”

Indrid grins, kisses his cheek, “I believe I can manage that.”

He removes the more sweat and cum covered pieces of the bed, replaces them with clean ones as Duck rinses off. Makes Duck tea, which he sips while he reads to Indrid in bed, the Sylphs head resting in his lap. When Ducks shoulders twinge from being bound, Indrid rubs them while asking Duck about his training. 

He’s not sure who falls asleep first. All he knows is that when they awaken, it’s in each others arms.


	10. Over and Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid and Duck get into a fantasy. 
> 
> They also get a piece of important news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: Indrid and Duck act out Ducks fantasy of Indrid being rough with him, including Indrid ignoring pleas to be gentle and referring to duck as his "gift" and "toy." We see them discuss the boundaries beforehand, and that they have a safeword in place, and even in the roleplay everyone is enthusiastically consenting. Aftercare is also shown.

A few days after returning to bed together, they're having breakfast when Indrid approaches Duck with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Now” Indrid sets a mug of coffee in front of Duck,“about that particular fantasy of yours.”

“Uh, the monster one?” Duck looks up from the stack of books he borrowed from Thacker, none of which have the answers they need.

“Indeed. I would like to explore it soon. But we must set down some rules first.” 

“Okay, what’re you thinkin?” Duck leans back so Indrid can sit in his lap.

“Well, how much pain are you comfortable with?”

“A decent amount. Ain’t sure I want you to make me bleed or anythin, but I kinda liked it when you were bitin and scratchin that last time.”

“Understood.”

“I also would’nt mind if you made me put up a fight. Or you ignorin me if I beg you to be gentle."

“Some resistance sounds enjoyable, but I will not be able to do it if we pretend I am actually taking you against your will. That is not a pleasant idea, even if it is only playacting.”

“Fine by me, sugar. You wanna walk to work with me? That we could grab those scones you like from Barclay on the way.”

“That sounds delightful, my love.”  
\---------------------------------------------  
Duck lounges on the bedroom nest, having borrowed one of Indrids pairs of loose, soft pants and one of his tunics. The front door scuffs, signalling the Sylphs return home. 

“Duck” Indrid sing-songs.

“In here, sugar.”

“It would appear you’ve done none of what I asked you to do while I was gone.” He steps into the bedroom, removing his glasses and setting them aside. When Duck glances up, his wings are slightly spread, blocking the door. 

“Am I to take that to mean what we agreed it meant?” Indrid’s voice is soft.

“Yep.” 

“The word to make me stop?”

“Beacon.” Duck turns back to his book.

“Then tell me, sweet little human, if you are not going to do what I ask, why am I keeping you around?”

Duck ignores him. 

“Answer me.” Indrid repeats, sternly. 

Duck turns the page, only for claws to prick the back and sides of his neck, the bed dipping all around him.

“Do not make me ask again.” It’s a hint of a growl, Indrid prepared to forgive and forget if Duck obeys.

“Because you like my ass, I dunno.” He shrugs, trying to dislodge Indrid’s grip. Instead, another hand enters his view, ripping the book away.

“Hey!” He turns, making a grab for it. One hand grips his hair, the lower two trapping his hands by his sides. The fourth holds his book well out of reach. He struggles in the hold. 

“‘Drid, I just got to a good part!” 

The book hits the ground with a smack, allowing both upper hands to pull at his shirt.

“Helping yourself to my clothes, my bed, my books, and all without a thank you. I think it’s high time I reminded you why you ended up here in the first place.”

“You got a crush on me, that's why. And that was my book.”

Indrid puffs up in a way Duck’s never seen before, “Wrong answer.” The shirt rips in half, the pants to shreds in a matter of moments. Indrid pulls him into a possessive embrace, top hands threaded in his hair and forcing his vision up. 

“You were a gift. You were _given_ to me to do with as I see fit.” 

Duck winces when both hands pull his hair, but manages a cocky smile, “Ain’t we been doin a lot of that anyway?”

“As humans, yes. But you forget; you were given to _this_ form of me.” He spreads his wings wide and bares his teeth and mandibles. 

“You don’t mean-”

“Oh yes, my sweet; I’m going to make good use of my new toy. We shall see if you can hold up.”

There was a time when Duck’s reaction would have been terror. He tries to channel some of that now, to keep up the role. All that comes out is broken, anticipatory moan. 

“You like that, little human?”

“Fuck, yes, ‘Drid, want it so bad.”

“What you want is immaterial.” He tosses Duck backward, flips him onto his stomach before he even registers the landing, “you are here for my pleasure. Forget that at your peril.”

Duck whines into the pillows, “Sugar, please, I’ll do whatever you want, just go easy.”

“Far too late for that.” Indrid pins his hands on either side of his head, “and you are not to speak to me unless I ask you too. Screams, moans, and other such sounds are permissible until I decide otherwise. Now, stay still while I get ready--what did I just say?”

“Stay still?”

“Then why are your hips moving?”

“Uh, because, uh, I’m, you’re turnin me on real bad.”

“Impatient thing.” Indrid slaps his ass, lets the claws trail along the stinging skin afterwards, “hmmm, doing that seems to be making it easier for me to become hard.” 

Duck braces and five more slaps come, the last one followed by a full-on scratch from his ass down to his calf. He whimpers, forces himself to stay still.

“There we are.” Something solid and ridged teases his ass. Trying to see exactly what he’s expected to take, he turns his head, find Indrid concealing himself coyly with a wing.

“Curious, my sweet?”

“Uh huh.” 

Indrid yanks him up and back, both of them facing the sole mirror in the room. He forces Ducks thighs open, and there’s a strange drag of cool skin as he presses his cock between them before shoving them back together. Duck gasps when it presses his own half-hard cock up.

“I suppose…” Indrid trails his claws down Ducks chest, “I ought to be a bit gentle with you. I mean, just look at the size. It would be rude to ruin the gift I was so thoughtfully given.”

“Thoughtful? Those fuckers were anythin butAHhnnn” Red marks down his chest. 

“Are you sure you want to chance disobedience now, little human? This will be splitting you in half in a count of thirty if you’re not careful.” 

“I’m, I’m sorry, please ‘Drid, gimme a chance.”

“Very well.” Indrid nuzzles his neck with a gentle chirr, “I suppose I can afford to be patient with such a handsome thing, even if you are a bit wicked.”

“Ain't, ain’t wicked” Duck pants as black-clawed fingers circle both cocks, “just want you to prove you deserve to fuck me.”

“Ah ah” Indrid chides, tongue snaking along the crook of his neck, “I do not need to worry about earning anything tonight.” He draws the hand back and forth and Duck moans, “wouldn’t you agree.” Another hand rests on his throat, a third dragging pink ‘S’s along his chest and belly. 

“Nhhuh.” 

“Good. Watch carefully” The hand switches from the front of his throat to the back of his neck, pushing his gaze down. He groans as the strokes gain speed, and Indrid echoes the sound, a tender lick to his shoulder before he continues his detached monologue, “you see, oh goodness, see how it moves of it’s own accord.” Duck watches the cock ripple, the head pulsing oddly on occasion, “when this is inside you, the head will push you open to ready you for the rest, and to make you as open as can be to be my, ah, mate. Not that such a thing can happen between us, but my body does not know that. I, gracious, say this all so you are not surprised or frightened.”

“Sure, and it ain’t got anythin to do with teasin meee_shit_.”

“You’re too talkative for your own good. But we’ll soon fix that.”

“How, oh, oh fuck, ‘Drid, that feels so fuckin’ good, shit, I, I don’t wanna come yet, we ain’t even-”

There’s a dark, mocking chuckle in his ear “That’s the point, my sweet. I need you loosened and sensitive for the next part.”

Duck’s retort dies into a gasp as he comes across Indrids fist and cock.

“Tsk, all that talking back _and_ you’ve made a mess.” Indrid pulls away, sitting on the bed with his legs out in front of him, “Wicked little thing.”

Duck whimpers, the enjoyment of the insult warring with a need to be praised. 

Indrid cocks his head, antennae twitching, “do you want to try behaving instead?”

Duck nods.

“Come here.”

Duck crawls the short distance to the Sylph, sits back on his heels. Indrid trails a claw along his jawline.

“Such a wonderful gift. And all mine.” 

Duck moans softly and Indrid cups his cheek. He leans into the touch, keeps doing so even as the hand moves down, guiding his head to the tip of Indrids cock. 

“I suggest you put that mouth to good us, OH, there we are, that's my sweet human.” He purrs as Duck licks the side of the shaft, hand at the base to steady it. There’s bitterness from his own spend, and something oddly sweet beneath it; whatever it is beading at the head before slipping down. 

“I’m going to begin opening you up” Indrid is leaning back even as Duck lavishes his cock with attention, searching the nearby table for something, “and you can continue as you are, since you are clearly delighting in your true purpose as my cocksucker.”

Duck grins, takes the head into his mouth for a taste as something small and covered in oil presses against his ass. It slides in relatively easily, given it’s size.

“My, my, was my gift well-loved before coming to me?”

Duck lifts his head, “You know damn well I wasn’t. Not that way, anyway.”

Indrid tilts his chin up with claw-tip, “True. Such a luxury to be able to be the first to ruin you.”

Duck smirks, “can’t think of anythin you’ve ruined. More like you made everythin better.”

Indrids facade breaks for a moment, and he smiles as at Duck as if he planted all the flowers on earth by hand just to make Indrid happy. Then the hungry look returns. 

“Oh, just you wait.” Indrid nudges his head back down, pulls out the toy. Duck hears him slicking up another, hums excitedly around the first inch or so of his cock. Squeaks when a considerably larger, smooth head pushes in.

“This is a favorite of mine; it’s made of green serpentstone, which gives it a lovely--oooh do that with your tongue again--heft.”

He’s right, the toy is barely larger than Indrid's human cock, yet he feels much fuller. They find a rhythm, Indrid fucking him lazily with the toy as he alternates between sucking as much of Indrids cock as will fit in his mouth and pulling off so he can lave his tongue over every inch of it. When Indrid gently pulls the toy out and puts down, Duck laps at a ridge in hopes of making him continue.

“It’s time for the last one. Are you certain you want it?”

“Do your worst.” Duck pants, grinning. 

The error of those words registers the moment Indrid growls. His head is shoved down, Indrid's cock pushing at his throat, at the exact same moment the third toy thrusts in. It’s bigger than anything he’s ever been fucked by and he yelps in surprise. Or tries to, his head remaining trapped under the weight of Indrid’s palm.

“Cockiness is not wise, sweet one.”

His attempts at apology are lost in a gargling moan as Indrid pushes the toy further. By the time the base hits his body, he’s moaning so much spit is trailing down Indrids cock. 

His head is yanked most of the way up, the toy most of the way out, Indrid holding him like that for a moment before plunging it back in and shoving his head down once more. Duck makes a noise that’s not nearly dignified enough to be a scream.

Indrid gives a delightfully cruel laugh, “Wise of me to put, goodness, put up a silencing spell. Otherwise people might think I’m harming you rather than indulging your need to be treated like nothing more than my toy.”

Duck moans again, and the movement of the cock in his mouth changing, pulsing faster atop his tongue. 

“That’s it, gracious, my wicked little human, let me come down that lovely throat.” He trills, yanking the final toy out and away in favor of clasping all four hands on Ducks head.  
Duck doesn’t even try to swallow, let’s some of it hit the back of his throat while the rest drips from the edges of his mouth down his chin. It’s silvery, which he was not expecting, and as he gasps for air Indrid daintily wipes his lips clean.

“A noble effort.” He murmurs.

“Thanks, sugar."

“Mmmm, sweet words will not save you from the monster.” Indrid nuzzles his ear, mandibles grazing his neck.

“Don’t feel much like bein' saved.”

Indrid purrs, a deep, possessive sound that resonates down to Ducks bones, and lays back, cock still hard and shiny.

“A perk of not being human.” He says in answer the question Duck almost asks, “now come serve your monster.”

Duck straddles him, which proves to be a bit of a stretch on it’s own. His shaking thighs aren’t helped by Indrid dragging five angry white marks down each.

“I will let you go at your own pace, to a point. If you begin stalling to toy with me, rather than to save yourself discomfort, I will be put out.” 

Indrid chirps as Duck sinks the first inch, antenna quivering and wings trembling, “ohhhhh, you’re so warm, so tightOH, you really were made just for me.”

Duck allows himself a moment of pride that this is overwhelming for both of them. Indrid’s preparation helped with the stretch, and his earlier explanation is saving Duck from being alarmed at the strange motion of the cock inside him. Yet nothing could fully prepare him for the way it pulses and ripples, as if driven to merge with him completely. 

It’s very flattering. 

The next sound from Indrid is so shaky that he pauses his measured descent and breaks his concentration, “You alright, darlin'?”

“Y-yes, mmmm, my sweet Duck, you are the first human I’ve done this with, and, and oh, it’s such a change, it’s as if you can barely hold me, as if you’re completely at my mercy.”

That’s the opening Duck's been waiting for.

“Dunno, with all the squirmin' you’re doin'” he’s two thirds of the way down and stops, switches to wiggling his hips back and forth, “seems like it’s the other way around.”

There’s a warning growl, Indrid puffing up as his eyes narrow.

“Besides, I’m takin' most of it, that oughta be enough for you.” Duck rubs the feathers on his belly condescendingly, feels the muscle under them tense. Indrid surges up, snarling, lower hands forcing Ducks hips down.

“AHFfffffffuck!”

“Quiet.” Indrid hisses, yanking Ducks hips up and down violently, thrusting to the hilt each time, “that was your last warning.”

“FuckFUCKfuck, ‘Drid, m’sorry, was just teasin, I’ll be goodAHI’ll be so good just be gentle please-”

“I said _quiet_.” One upper hand clamps over his mouth, the other smacking across his ass in erratic strikes. Duck yelps, mouth still begging for mercy even as his brain tips into a delicious haze of wanting to serve, to be used. 

“Shhhhhhh” Indrid coos, “no more protests from you mmmmmmmmohhhhhh, you get even tighter when I’m mean. I , goodness, I hooOOpe you know this is your fate from now on, to get fucked like this every night until you forget what it’s like to be without my cock, until you’re on your knees begging me to fill you.”

He moans ecstatically at the image, fisting his hands into the down of Indrid's chest. Even with his brain being bounced around in his skull from Indrids movements, he recalls an important fact about his wings. 

His fingers venture around Indrids torso,tentatively stroking at the inner most part of his wings.

“_Yesssss_.” Indrid spreads them, uncovering Ducks mouth to stroke his hair instead, “good little human, such skillful fingers, do not stop or I will eviscerate you.” The last words carry not even a hint of threat as Indrid presses the dark feathers beneath his palms. Duck snickers between his moans, fluff tickling his nose as he kisses a line along Indrids chest, fingers petting and playing with the sensitive bands of the wings. 

He’s struggling to speak, and Indrid seems to be in much the same state, purring pants mingling with Ducks groans and whimpers of pleasure. One hand snakes between them, and as his shaft luxuriates in fucking against the softness of Indrids belly, a claw rubs two circles along the head. He comes, cry muffled in black, speckled feathers. 

“I, I ought to angry with you for defiling my beautiful plumage in such a way but, but gracious, I have more important things to attend to, ah, AHnnnnnnnuh.” Come spurts up into him and he moans. He’s never felt it that intensely when they’re both human, and it leaves him feeling filthy, defiled, depraved. He feels like everything he was warned off of becoming.

And it’s the most freeing sensation imaginable, made all the more satisfying by the wings wrapping around him, the timbre of Indrids voice as he moans his name over and over, spindly arms holding him as if he’s the most precious thing in existence.

“You are. Oh, oh dear, wrong timeline.” Indrid bumps their foreheads together, his purr soothing as he guides them down into the brightly colored bed, Duck on his back with the Sylph grinning dreamily at him. 

The cock inside him stirs, and Indrid purrs, lids heavy and voice oozing with honeyed dominance, “let’s see how you hold up in this position.”  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
Telling time inside the caves is always a bit tricky; Sylphs prefer using the movement of the sun to mark time, though the more punctual ones have embraced clocks with a near-fanatical fervor. 

Indrid has only one clock, a small one in the living room that he bought in Kepler in anticipation of Duck needing it. But the weather globe remains the sole way of gauging time in the bedroom. That means times of day are easy to mark, and hours less so. 

They are even less easy to track when Duck barely has a moment to catch his breath. But, a conservative estimate is that Indrid and he have been fucking for three hours. The Sylph has stopped only to retrieve water when Ducks voice grew raw, petting his hair and rubbing his back as he drank it. 

They’re back in the first position Indrid chose, facing the mirror up on their knees, Indrid fucking him from behind. His thighs glitter in the ambient light from the living room, the remnants of Indrid vigorously fucking them twice in a row (Indrid never bothered turning on the crystals even when the daylight faded from the weather globe). His body is so pliable, he’s quite certain Indrid could fold him in half and he’d be fine. His last orgasm barely had any force behind it, yet it left him whimpering gratefully in the fold of Indrids wing. 

He’s so blissed out and so exhausted that his eyelids flutter shut, his head droops down.

Then he jolts upright with a weak scream; Indrid's lower claws are in his hips, already coated in red dots and scratches, and the upper ones dig into his shoulders. 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, I not done with you.” In the mirror, glowing ruby-colored eyes take on an feral glint, “you are my gift, Duck Newton, and I will use you as much as I please, you are nothing more than a toy for me to fill with cum until I’m satisfied.” The hand skates down from his right hip to his lower belly, to the slight bulge that made Duck let out the happiest moan the first time he saw it.

"Ohhhhhh” Indrid purrs, “I do so love being able to feel my cock inside you. And you like too, you wicked thing, because you, goodness, know this is your fate, to be my human, mine.”  
Bright green light zips in the patterns of Indrid's wings, interspersed with flashes of gold. Awe wells up in Duck alongside the gratification of how overrun with love Indrid sounds, even as his words drip with animalistic arousal. 

“Yeah” Duck whispers, relaxing in the hold, “M’all yours, sugar. Fuck, shit, ‘Drid, yes, that’s it darlin, claim me again, lemme know just who I belong to.”

“_Mine_.” Indrid growls, mandibles pulling back so he can bite Duck with his fangs, bruising the skin at the back of his neck as he empties into him. His cock ripples, and Duck shudders as it strains to push cum from gods know how many orgasms further into him. In the time before it stills, Indrid's wings continue to flash green and gold, growl tapering up into a trill. 

It’s when he flops onto his stomach with a satisfied chirr that the color changes back to the blue Duck saw in the cave. The human collapses alongside him, only to find the fabric beneath him wet. 

“Shit.” He mumbles.

A wing shoots out, flapping ineffectively in the dim light before connecting with one of the crystals. In the warm glow, Duck can see just how ruffled and wrecked Indrid is. And if the Sylph looks that way, then he must look….

“Goodness” Indrid giggles weakly, “what a picture we make.”

“Uh huh.” This must be how jellyfish feel, floating in the salty water. Weightless and loose and ready to be carried with the tides. 

“Come” Indrid stands, wobbles, then scoops Duck into his arms and heads for the washroom, “it is time for me to care for the man I love.”

“Wh’about you?” 

“I will be alright. At least that’s what I foresee.”

“Still wanna groom your wings. Deserve me takin care of you.”

“That can be arranged.” Indrid licks his cheek, stepping into the hot spring and setting Duck on one of the stone seats within it. The water rises when he sits beside him, and Duck scoots over to sit in his lap. Damp wings and arms encircle him.

“I adore holding you.”

“Like it too. Love you so much ‘Drid. That was so fuckin good.”

“I was not too rough?”

“Nope.” He nestles closer.

“I was not too mean?” A fuzzy chin settles atop his head.

“Nope. Just the right amount. Was, did you like it?” He looks up, expression brimming with worry.

“I enjoyed myself immensely. It was rather fun to play the big scary monster with someone who makes me feel so...safe.” 

“You’re always safe with me, sugar. And I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you as well, my wonderful Duck.”

They finish bathing, Duck grooming and oiling Indrid's wings, filling the air with the scent of sweet mallow, and Indrid tending to the few scratches that were deeper than he meant them to be. Once they’re upstairs, Indrid brews himself tea and makes simple soup for Duck. Rubs the humans shoulders as Duck reads to him and feeds him sweets. Gradually, they drowsily curl up together in the front nest, agreeing to leave the cleaning of the main one until tomorrow. And while it’s much closer to dawn than to dusk when they finally close their eyes, neither is worried. 

After all, they have all the time in the world.   
\-------------------------------------------------------  
Five days later, Duck is out in a grove of blue mallow trees with Thacker when Aubrey jogs into view.

“Uh, apparently Mama needs to talk to all of us. I don’t know about you, but that never sounds like anything good.”

“Nope” say both men. 

They weave through the meadow with it’s too-rapidly spreading patches of dull grey and brown, and arrive to find Mama, Indrid, Janelle, Barclay, and Stern already gathered. 

“There is not an easy way to say this.” Janelle begins, and she seems so uncharacteristically worried that Aubrey takes her hand, “It is something that has never happened in all our history.”

“Human’s invaded?” Duck steps beside Indrid, who puts a protective arm around him.

“The White Roses found out the truth?” Aubrey hazards.

Janelle looks at her protegee, face lined with sorrow, “Far worse. We discovered why the plants are wilting and springs are not flowing as they used to; it has to do with Sylvain herself. She’s dying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to take a week hiatus to plan out the remainder of this story. If you need a fix of our boys until then, I'm doing fun little winter AU fills over on Tumblr.


	11. I Think the World May Be Coming to an End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janelle theorizes. Indrid faces a delay. Duck takes a stand.

“Why?” Aubrey looks between Janell and Indrid.

“We’re not sure.” Indrid replies, tapping the claws of his lower hands together, “And for some reason, I was not able to see it coming. Nor can I see a solution. I have had my powers compromised before, but this tampering only influences my ability to see futures involving Sylvain herself.”

“Tamperin? You think someone’s doin this on purpose, then?” Duck pets down a nearby patch if mussed feathers, needing something to do with his hands. 

“Sylvain is divine entity, it stands to reason that something to weaken her would need to be calculated and powerful. It’s unlikely to be an accident, let alone a natural occurrence.”

“What about the Quell?” Thacker glances at Janelle. 

“The what?” Duck interjects.

“The Quell is a force equal to Sylvain. Her partner, if you will. The Quell and Sylvain balance each other, strengthen each other. They also love each other. Which is why your question is a useful one, Thacker.” Janelle points to the ground, “If Sylvain is hurting, the Quell may be as well, either because she is ailing from the same thing or because she is feeling the pain of the one she loves. The danger is that the Quell and Sylvain are of different temperaments, and they could each create catastrophic effects on our home, on our very beings, in their attempts to protect themselves from whatever is killing Sylvain.” 

“My sudden bout of feral behavior was likely one such effect. It may be that what is draining Sylvain's power also drained something from me the further I got from her.” Indrid picks up a map of Sylvain’s cave networks from the table, “Janelle, Mama, and I agree that we must send a party to the heart of Sylvain, the only physical piece of her form we can reach. We may be able to diagnose the problem, or better yet solve it. The trouble is, the heart is not marked on any map we can find. It seems either no one knows where it is, or felt it was too dangerous to guide people to something so vulnerable and sacred.”

“That’s...not entirely true.” Ned stands in the doorway, and produces a torn piece of paper from his jacket. Mama gets to it first, snatching it from him.

“Ned Fuckin Chicane, I’m giving you thirty seconds to tell me why you got this.” She holds up a map, with an orange crystal marked clearly on it’s far right side. 

“I am afraid, my friends, that I was not fully honest with my reasons for coming.”

“What a shock.” Barclay mutters. 

“I was sent as a sort of...plea bargain. An old partner of mine found me in Kepler, bringing my past with him. I agreed to assist him in stealing something from the White Roses, penance for something I did to him long ago. Or, perhaps, something I did not do and should have. All the same, we were caught. An offer was made; if I could slip into Sylvain and confirm the heart was real, not merely an old story, we would both be pardoned and spared our fate as sacrifices. My friend would be held as collateral until I returned.”

“Why do they want to know if the heart is real?” A spark appears on Aubrey’s fingers. 

“I imagine to remove the threat of the monsters on their borders.” Indrid looks at Ned carefully, red eyes full of a look Duck hopes will never be directed at him. 

“But getting rid would remove one of their main forms of controlling citizens.” 

“Very true, Joseph. But do you doubt their ability to develop new, cruel ways to rid their towns of deviants?”

“Gods.” Stern places a hand over his mouth in horror.

“How’d they even get this in the first place?” Duck studies the map Ned provided, comparing it to the one Indrid hands him.

“Wait, that room, the one where we found you.” Aubrey turns to Indrid, “It was full of really powerful items.”

“So you said.”

“What if the White Roses have been collecting things for years, hoping to find a way to destroy Sylvain?”

“That’s...extremely likely, Aubrey, very good thinking. And if they have that map, goodness knows what else they have gotten their awful little hands on.”

“I’m bettin this was from someone before the White Roses, too. Look, there’s tunnels and places missin’; whenever this was drawn, Sylvain has grown a lot since. Either way, we got it now. That means we can get goin and figure out what the fuck is wrong.”

“I wish it were that simple, my friend.”

“What now, Ned?”

“Oh no.” Stern looks to Barclay, “There have only been two sacrifices since Ned turned up. And if one of them were his friend, I think we’d know.”

“Correct.” Ned sighs. 

“Which means they’re planning to send him in-”

“Sent!” Indrid yells, antennae at attention, “Already sent. It seems whatever is happening to my visions, it’s causing them to come in at a delay. Which means your friend is already leading a group from Kepler in search of the heart. It seems they trusted his skill as a housebreaker."

“Guess they were smart enough to make a copy of the damn map.” Mama rubs her forehead, “Figures the one time the White Roses show any common sense it’s to fuck us over.”

“In that case, we better get movin. What’s the plan?” 

Mama thinks for a moment, “You, Aubrey, Thacker, and Indrid are gonna come with me to deal with whoever’s come from Kepler. Ned, you’re comin to, because I don't trust you any farther than I can throw you, and I wanna have you around to throw if I need to. Stern, Barclay, I’m trustin you to help Janelle and Hollis if anythin goes wrong up here while we’re gone.” She grabs her hat from the table, “y’all get what you need, and meet me back here in a half hour. Now, let’s get goin; we’re burnin daylight.”  
\------------------------------------------------------  
Duck wraps Beacon around his waist in place of his belt (for some reason this seems to keep the sword from offering his deeply unneeded commentary). Indrid stands at his desk, placing supplies into a small pouch that he then slips over his wrist.

“Duck?”  
“Yeah, sugar?”

“I cannot see what is coming. I cannot tell if we make it out of this alive.”

“I know, ‘Drid, and it’s okay. We’ll get through this, even if your powers can’t help us.”

The Sylph takes his hand, gazing down at him, “You must allow me to finish. My love, if, if I do not return with you all, I want you to know that the time you and I have been together is the happiest I’ve been in all my years. I wanted to thank you, my heart, for all you have given me.”

Duck chuckles, “As if you ain’t given me the greatest thing imaginable fallin in love with me. I so fuckin glad you came lookin for me that day at the festival. And I don’t care what I gotta do to make it happen; if I come back, I’m bringin you with me.”

Indrid rests their foreheads together with a gentle, loving chirr, “In that case, my sweet, shall we prepare to head into the unknown?”

“Right behind you, sugar.”  
\--------------------------------------------------  
“You gotta be fuckin kiddin me.” Duck growls as he peers over the top of the boulder behind which he and Aubrey are hidden. They’re on an upper walkway, deep, deep down in the caverns, with their enemies at the bottom of the trail, far enough away that it took Duck a moment to pick up details. 

“What?” She tries to peek as well, but Duck rests his hand on her shoulder to keep her from rising further.

“They got the two champions with them. Leo and Minerva.”

“Shit.”

“Why is that bad?” Thacker whispers as the group of interlopers disappears from view.

“They were trainin me to be champion too, at one point. Y’know, the whole “prophecy baby” thing?”

Mama rolls her eyes, nodding sympathetically. 

“I didn’t have a knack for it, but they’re both real fuckin good. We’re gonna have our hands full with just those two, let alone the other eight fellas they got.”

“Let’s just keep followin ‘em for now. Like to get a sense of what they’re actually plannin before we confront ‘em.” Mama jerks her head and they continue down the trail, Indrid using his Sylph eyesight to help them navigate through the darker stretches. 

They’re moving through a wide tunnel, dimly glowing red walls broken up by metallic black boulders, when Duck is knocked off his feet and into a rock. He drives his knee up into the figure attacking him. From his left is a screech and Mama cursing, and he grapples with the figure, trying to get some form of upper hand. He catches their throat with his elbow just as a flash of fire shows a familiar face. 

“Duck?”

“No shit, Leo, now get the fuck off of me.” Duck shoves the older man backwards, dusts himself off, and finds Minerva, the other champion, held at cross-bow point by Mama. Indrid must have been mere seconds away from helping Duck, as Leo collides with him as soon as Duck pushes him.

“Shit!” Leo scrambles backward, away from the growling Sylph.

“He ain’t gonna hurt you, don’t worry.”

“Unless you intend on attacking Duck again. In which case, you should worry a great deal.”

Leo shakes his head and Indrid helps Duck to his feet first, before offering the shaken man a hand up. 

“Apologies, Duck Newton, we were not aware of who was following us, only that we were being followed.” Minerva booms quietly, an oxymoron of volume that never ceases to impress, “We were not expecting to find compatriots we assumed were long dead at the hands of our foes.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck crosses his arms, “don’t know if you noticed, but the ‘foe’ y’all sacrificed me to didn’t hesitate to come to my defense.” His pointed glare hits it’s mark. 

“Duck, buddy, you know we don’t got any sway with the Roses. Not really.” 

“Our pleas for them to reconsider were dismissed the moment they were uttered.”

“Wait, you actually tried?”

“Of course we did! Duck Newton you were our student and friend, we would be dishonorable indeed if we did not try to help you avoid an untimely death.”

“Speakin of ‘dishonorable’” Mama’s crossbow hasn’t moved in the slightest, “y’all even know what you’re helpin them do down here?”

“They told us it was an important job, somethin about removin the greatest threat to our home, and that the party needed us as guards.” Leo shrugs.

“Which is the sneaky way of saying ‘we’re gonna kill an entire civilization.’” Aubrey makes quotation marks of flame in the air. 

“And quite possibly Kepler too.” Thacker adds, “Sylvain and the Quell ain’t likely to go quietly.”

Leo and Duck share a glance, and then look to Duck. He realizes they mean for him to confirm the story so they can be sure of it’s truth. 

“Yeah, that’s basically it. But even if Kepler weren’t in danger, there ain’t anyway I’d let you two stop us. Sylvain’s full of more color, more hope, more fuckin _love_ than Kepler ever was. Joe ain’t afraid for the first time in a decade, Thacker here’s respected, hells, Aubrey got fuckin married! And,” he takes Indrid’s lower hands, “I got someone worth facin down the end of the world for every goddamn day if that's what it takes to keep him by my side."

“But, the White Roses, surely-” Minerva looks torn.

“They’re bigger liars than Ned. I don’t think they know the truth about what they’re destroyin, and what’s more damnin' is you both know it wouldn’t stop them if they did know what Sylvain really was. You’re fuckin champions, you were always tellin me to use whatever powers I supposedly had to do what was right. Stoppin them” he points into the darkness, “is what’s right.”

Faintly, so softly he’s certain only he hears it, Indrid chirrs with affectionate pride. 

“You’re right, you’re right” Leo nods slowly, stuffs his hands in his pockets, “Feels like it’s about damn time to stop doin whatever they tell us.”

“You are correct, Duck Newton. I am...ashamed, to have followed their instructions, at times it even went against my conscience to do so. I ask for a chance to redeem myself.” She kneels, Mama stepping back in surprise.

“I mean, uh, that’s great and all, but you really don’t need to ask forgiveness or nothin, hells, I ain’t even all that mad and-”

“My love, as touching as this is, I fear our time to stop this disaster grows short.” 

“Good point, okay, right, everyone up, let’s get movin.”

Leo and Minerva fall in with the rest of the group as they continue on. 

Aubrey grins at the duo, “Glad to have you among the good guys! And Ned.”

“Uncalled for!”   
\------------------------------  
They halt in front of a massive, high chamber, decorated with signs of peace. But through the wide,arched doorway, all they can perceive is a dust storm of red, black, orange, and white light, spewing cacophonous sounds into the caves. In the midst of the storm are eight figures, all struggling to move, to stay upright. 

“Lemme guess; the heart’s in the middle of that mess?” Duck looks at Indrid, who looks down at the map. 

“Indeed.”

Duck peers into the maelstrom. A thundercrack, followed by a bolt of black light, and three of figures fall to their knees. 

“....Fuck.”


	12. Shard of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stern makes a choice. Aubrey makes a promise. Ned makes a change.

The ground rumbles beneath their feet as Stern looks between a concerned Janelle and an angry Hollis. 

“You’re sure they’re coming here?”

“Yep, Kepler, Victorville, and everywhere in between is being hit with those” another tremor “yeah, _those_, and everyone seems to be heading towards us, I’m guessing because the earthquakes are weaker here."

“I fear that lends credence to Aubrey’s original theory; if the White Roses did something in one of the towns, a device or a spell or something of that nature, the Quell or Sylvain may be trying to stop her death by destroying the town.” Janelle steps to a scrying bowl, waving her hand in slow circles, “they will be here shortly, seeking refuge. I have my own thoughts on the matter, but as those previously targeted by the White Roses, I feel your opinion is of the most value.” Janelle gestures to Hollis and Stern.

“Look, I know helping them is probably the right thing to do but they fucked us over. They think y’all are monsters. Why would we stick our necks out for them? Hells, you said they were probably the ones causing all this shit in the first place.” Hollis looks behind them at Jake, who nods in agreement. 

“Hollis is right. Nothing they’ve done is particularly worthy of mercy but…” Stern runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh, “there are more innocent people out there than guilty. We sacrifices took the worst of the White Roses’ punishment, but we were far from the only people who suffered under them. Many of us still have family or friends who were as miserable as we were. Are the councilmen coming with them? Because that is a group I would glad see swallowed into the ground.” He turns to Janelle.

“It appears so.”

“Babe, I agree that it’s not fair for the townspeople to suffer, but if the White Roses are with them, there’s nothing to stop them from convincing everyone else to attack us in our own home.”

“What if we didn’t let them all the way in?” Dani offers, “The entry tunnels are long enough to keep people sheltered without letting them see what’s really here.”

“That’s brilliant dude!” Jake holds out a hand for a high five, which Dani returns. Hollis pauses for a moment, then holds their hand out to Dani for the same.

“Yes, it is, assuming we can keep them from going beyond where we want them too. We’d need to create a barrier somehow, maybe one they can’t see.”

“Uh babe? There’s literally a spellcaster in the room with us, one who’s got a bunch of pupils. I think we can make that work.”

“Ahem. Right. Having magic in such a large supply is still very new to me.” Stern blushes “In that case, let’s get to work.”  
\---------------------------------------  
Dark static buzzes in Ducks vision as electricity courses through his mouth and his limbs go numb. 

Then it clears, and he sees the room. The whirlwind and lights are worst at the edges, though there’s still swirling splotches of dark haze and bursts of colored light ricocheting across the walls and floor, occasionally catching one of the rooms occupants in their path.

He chooses the word "occupant" because “human” no longer seems accurate. Each time a bolt of light connects with one of the party from Kepler, they change; scales, horns, fur, blots of strangely colored skin all appearing on the alarmed figures. 

Then a bolt of red light hits him and he braces for a painful change. Instead, his limbs surge with strength. Indrid and Aubrey both take hits of black light. Indrid shakes his feathers and continues forward, while the fire in Aubrey's hand flares. 

“Why aren’t we changing?” Aubrey looks up at Indrid.

“I’m not certain, but I believe whatever Sylvain and the Quell are doing, it’s amplifying certain qualities in those who are human, including making internal traits visible. That combined with Sylvains power to create a variety of forms of life, is making them change eve more. Regardless, we are running out of time.”

“Aubrey, Thacker, I’m trustin you two to help Indrid tackle whatever’s goin on with the crystal. Rest of us will make sure no one fucks with you while do.” Mama lifts her crossbow from her back.

The trio make it five steps further before a huge, hunched figure, like a skinned werewolf, bars their way. 

“Step aside there, buddy, ain’t no need for a fight.” Leo draws his sword.

“Traitors” The wolf growls, leaping at Minerva, who knocks it from the air easily. 

“We shall handle this foe, make haste my friends!”

They do, only for Ned to be tackled as they're clearing a patch of haze. He and his attacker sliding across the floor, nearly bowling Indrid over in the process. 

“YOU ABSOLUTE GIT!” The creature pinning Ned to ground has most of his human features still, though there are patches of golden scales showing on his face. 

“Hello, Boyd, nice to see you again.” Ned wheezes. 

“This is the second time you’ve left me stuck in some bloody cell. It was a fuckin simple job, Ned, and you better have a fuckin explanation-”

“Mama.” Ned points to the woman, who lifts her crossbow in salute, “Can vouch for the fact that she had them keep me under very strict surveillance so I could not get out. I’m...I’m sorry, Boyd. I did not mean to abandon you again.”

Boyd relaxes his grip, only for both men to recoil from a blast of light. Scales appear on Boyd's right arm, and patch of glittering green ones peek through Ned's beard. On what’s clearly instinct, Ned sits up to examine where his friend was hit. 

“Mosche, you useless fucker, we gave you a knife for a reason.” A humanoid figure that seems to be rotting advances on them. There’s a _whoosh_ and then an arrow protrudes from it’s chest. It yanks the arrow out and snaps it in two as three more rotting figures appear beside it. 

“Whelp, guess this is gonna be a long one.” Mama reloads, then tosses her short sword onto the ground next to Ned, “C’mon, Chicane, make yourself useful.” 

Ned looks at the sword for a beat. Then he picks it up, standing with help from Boyd. The other thief draws his weapon, turning to face the on-comers. 

Ned grins, “With pleasure, Mama.”

Duck, Indrid, Aubrey, and Thacker continue on, Duck glancing back to see Minerva (who is turning a bit blue) and Leo now dealing with a second, sickly pale wolf. 

“Holy shit.” Aubrey gasps, pointing at a part in the strange mist through which two crystals, one black and one orange, flicker.

“The hearts.” Thacker steps through the gap first, face reverent. 

“Look” Duck points to the ground. Veins of orange spread through the stone, and several are bleached of all color, “bettin that connects to whatever is makin her sick.”

“Good eye, sport. Aubrey, you wanna do the honors, or should I?” 

“I’ll give it a shot.” Aubrey reaches out a hand towards Sylvain.

**Do not touch her**

The enraged voice echoes even in the storm. 

“Um, would I be speaking to the Quell?” Aubrey addresses the black crystal.

**Leave us alone**

“Your ladyship, please, we’re here to help.” Thacker stands beside Aubrey.

**Liars, I sense your intent.**

“She must not be able to tell us from the attackers.” Indrid glances behind them.

“I think I know a way around that. Thacker, you’ve got some psychic powers, right?”

“Indeed I do.”

“There’s a spell I can try, but it’ll take both of us, and we’ll basically be defenseless once we’re in it.”

“Say no more.” Duck draws Beacon, turning to face the rest of the room and the wall of fog, “you do what you gotta do. I’ll keep you safe."

“We both will.” Indrid flexes his wings. 

Aubrey holds her hands out and Thacker takes them, as yet another bolt of light whirls through the room.   
\-----------------------------------------------  
For a moment, Aubrey is afraid the spell failed. Nothing around them seems changed, though the sounds of the battle grow tinny and faint. Then she and Thacker turn. 

Where the crystals were once merely reflective, they can now see inside them. Two figures peer out. Sylvain is sitting, barely raises her head when Thacker gasps. But The Quell stands tall.

**What is the meaning of this?**

“We’re trying to show you our intentions are good.” Aubrey winces as a black, icy tendril of power glides over her foot, another reaching for Thacker's arm.

_Let them be, my love. I can feel their truth from here now that is not so much noise. I am sorry my children. I cannot stop this poison seeping into my heart._

**I will.**

_It is already poisoning you too_

“We know where the poison is comin’ from. Er, at least, we know how to find it. We’ll heal you both, I promise. All you gotta do is rest for awhile.”

_Even if my heart can be healed, it will take time. I do not think I can sustain myself through it, even if the poison is stopped._

“No that’s, we can’t let that happen.” Aubrey looks at Thacker, panic rising in her throat, “Can’t, can’t you, like, stay with the Quell while your heart heals?”

_No, though she is strong she has absorbed enough of the poison in protecting me that such an act would only endanger me further. But… _Sylvain lifts her head, and Aubrey is positive she’s looking at her, _If there was another vessel in which to reside for a time, this may yet be solved._

“I’m not gonna, like, die, if agree to that, right?” Aubrey looks to Thacker, who immediately feels the notes that are sitting in the pocket of his physical, rather than psychic form. 

_No, Aubrey, you will not. We will merely coexist for a time._

“Okay, cool, guess I’m gonna be a god for awhile. That’s totally normal and cool. Hopefully it won't freak Dani out.” Aubrey laughs nervously. 

**Do not take her. Please**

For the first time, the Quell sounds afraid. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Aubrey says softly, turning to face the black crystal, “I know what it’s like to have someone who you’d do anything for. Who you can’t imagine living without. I won’t take her away forever. Like Thacker said, it’ll just be until we’ve healed the crystal. And hey, I, er, we, can even come visit it you while it does. So you won’t get too lonely.”

In the physical plane, Aubrey sees the swirling fog dissipating. 

**Thank you, Aubrey. **

Aubrey bows, briefly, before turning back to Sylvain, “So, like, how do we do this?"

_Place your hand upon my heart, and listen carefully_  
\-----------------------------  
“It’s working.” Indrid points to the fading fog, “whatever they’re doing, the Quell and Sylvain are listening to them.”

“Thank fuck.” Duck breaths out. He wishes it would clear faster, and that the bolts of light would stop swirling. He’s taken two more, and his teeth are getting sharper. 

“Well, well, Duck Newton. Barely a mark on you. The foulest things take the longest to rot, it seems."

Advancing at them through the fog is a figure with oozing limbs, face lined with a thousand cuts, each weeping white pus. Twisted, half formed wings jut out from it’s back. 

“Gregor?” Duck raises Beacon, glad for the blade’s length.

“Yes, you miserable deviant, it’s me. I suppose I should not be surprised you’re still alive, clearly the monster found something it liked in you, if the reports were true.” 

“Yeah, that ain’t actually the insult you think it is. Take your men and go, Gregor. I don’t know if gettin out of here will change y’all back, but stayin’s only gonna make you worse.”

“I’m not leaving until this foul place is destroyed.” Gregor lunges Aubrey, only for Indrid to knock him backwards with his wing. Enraged, he throws himself at Duck. But before he can even swing Beacon, Indrid is once again in front of him.

This time, the Sylph lifts Gregor over his head and throws him. It’s far enough that Duck doesn’t see him land, and barely even hears it. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since he was so rude to you in the barn.” Indrid dusts off his upper hands, satisfied. 

There’s a grating, buzzing sound, and all movement in the room stills. Then the fog and the lights rapidly retreat into the crystals as Aubrey and Thacker fall to their knees. Duck helps Aubrey from the floor, Indrid doing the same for Thacker. 

“Are you okay? Is Sylvain?”

Aubrey grins, and when she looks at Duck her eyes are a vibrant orange, “Yep, we both are!”

Indrid groans, rubbing his forehead, “It appears the interference with the futures was coming from one or both of the crystals protecting herself, as the timelines I could not previously see have returned.”

“Thank fuck for that.” Mama, now visible, stands over two prone, rotting figures. Free of the noise and fog, the room feels much smaller, much homier. 

“So, that’s it right? We don’t gotta deal with anymore of these..whatever they were?” Leo wipes down his blade as Minerva dislodges one of her swords from a wolf.

“Nope.” Aubrey shakes her head.

“We still need to find out where the poison is coming from-”

“Halfway between Kepler and Victorville, in the woods.” Indrid shrugs at Thacker, whose mouth is still open, “Apologies, but that was an easy future to follow. Ah, it also appears that in trying to push out the poison, the Quell created tremors in the towns and the citizens have fled. And we have...less than an hour before that erupts into a conflict with Sylvain.”

“Shit.” Mama hisses. 

“Our odds of preventing it are greatly increased if we can prove the source of the poison. I can fly Duck and myself to the location to stop it, as that will be far faster than all of us moving on foot.”

“In that case, everyone else, you’re comin with me to see if we can’t keep the peace. That is, unless you two wanna scurry off” She nods towards Ned and Boyd, “Guessin the truth about Sylvain and the sacrifices is comin out one way or another, so I ain’t worried about keepin you hushed up.”

Ned scratches his left arm, now entirely coated in green scales, the main change from his time in the room. Boyd, on the other hand, is covered in golden scales, and his features have taken on a slightly reptilian edge. 

He huffs, grumpily, emitting a puff of smoke, “Go ahead, you soft old bastard. Know you always like playin the hero.”

“I would posit, Boyd, that doing so may be the best decision either of us could make. Besides, I believe I owe you some nights spent sleeping somewhere far more pleasant than a jail cell. If you help us keep the peace, I believe that can be easily arranged.”

“Oooh, we could even find you a pile of gold to sleep on!” Aubrey adds. 

“That's...actually that sounds nice.” Boyd crosses his arms, “what the hells, I’m in.”

“Excellent. I trust you all can find your way back up. Duck, may I take you for a ride?” He bows.

“You know it.” Duck smirks and winks.

“Save it until after we stop a war, lovebirds.” Mama tosses over her shoulder as she and the others begin the long, steep trek home. Duck hops on Indrids back, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“You gonna be able to fly like this?”

“Easily. Or have you forgotten just how strong your monster is.” Indrid purrs. 

“What did I just say?”

“Sorry, Mama.” They both call as Indrid stretches his wings. 

“Alright, my love, I suggest you hold on tight.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
Indrid is not the fastest flier, but he’s agile and sees easily in the dark. This makes it simple for him to fly them up and out of the cave system and into the late afternoon light. The world is bathed in gold, and between that and the new, deeply welcome weight of Duck on his back, Indrid could almost convince himself that all is well. 

The futures tell another story, as do the cracks forming in the earth below them. 

Duck has been silent, though Indrid feels each time he sucks in a breath. Flight is often overwhelming for humans, and so he keeps one hand resting on Duck’s where they clasp around him, the best reassurance he can offer while in the air. 

His visions guide them to land in the center of circle of firebriars. Indrid immediately tucks in his wings, not wanting them to brush against the stinging petals. 

“Well, think your visions were right.” Duck kicks aside dried leaves and thorny twice to reveal a large, jagged crystal buried in the ground. It’s same, bleached white they saw leeching into Sylvain’s heart. 

“We’ve always known that Sylvains magic spread out from her and into the surrounding lands to some degree. Children born with strange abilities, birds that can be reborn from fire, lizards that grow into dragons; these things have always been evidence that our worlds blended more than many were ready to admit. I just never thought that connection could be used for such an end.” Indrid kneels in the dirt, examining the gem.

“You see any way to get rid of it?”

Indrid extends a claw, hovering near the sickly, pale light, “it’s embedded via a spell. One that I’d need someone of Aubrey's level of power to reverse. But, I believe it can be shattered, if we can only figure out how.”

“I’m feelin pretty dang strong. What if I tried hitting it with Beacon?”

“Unorthodox, but it may be just what we need.”

“Better get out of strikin distance.” Duck holds out a hand to help Indrid from the ground.

“Duck? Are you aware you now have claws like mine?”

“No shit?” Duck lifts his hands, and Indrid feels a surge of affection as he studies his glittering black claws in the light.

“I think they look fetching.”

“Yeah.” Duck takes his lower hands, trailing his claws along them, “seems like Sylvain is rubbin off on me in a good way.”

“I’d beg to differ.” There’s a gurgling growl behind them, and the shape that used to be Gregor shoves it’s way through the briar, leaving chunks of ooze and flesh stuck to the branches.

“Which is why this ends _here_.”


	13. Take a Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beacon is useful. Indrid is in pain. Duck fulfills a prophecy.

“Lemme guess; you weren’t as much of an ooze-splat as we thought after Indrid threw you and you heard what we were plannin and got a head start.”

“Oh look, it has a brain.” Gregor gurgles.

“Man, what is your deal? Only harm I ever done you was breakin your nose. And that was to protect him.” He jerks his head towards Indrid. 

“My deal is that you are supposed to be _dead_. That disgusting monstrosity should have torn you to pieces. You’re supposed to pay for your deviance. This is a mockery of everything my father and my forebears built.”

“Hate to break it to you, but what they built was utter shit. Now get gone.” Duck turns around, lifts Beacon above the crystal. He doesn’t see Gregor's attack, only Indrid’s response as he hisses and lunges forward.

But the Sylph is too slow to prevent the ragged claw that catches Ducks shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon. One ratty wing knocks Indrid to the side and Duck onto his back, Beacon disappearing into the leaf litter.

“I am going to break your nose first, and then every, single bone from your skull on down until all that remains in your body is dust.”

Duck kicks Gregor in the face with enough force to send him tumbling backwards. The white wings tangle in a patch of thorns and Duck scrambles to recover Beacon. There’s thrashing and roaring behind him, a screech that belongs to Indrid, and a ripping of branches. Indrid must be restraining their attacker so Duck can get on with their quest.

If only he could find his damn sword in the leaf litter and gathering dusk.

“Duck Neeewton, are you blind as well as inept?”

“There you are.” Grabbing the hilt, he turns back towards his target. 

The clearing is empty.

“‘Drid?”

A slimy laugh rings out above him, and he looks up to find both Indrid and Gregor hovering above the briar. The Sylph struggles in his clutches, but the slashes of his claws have no effect.

“It is useless to fight, foul creature, the evil force you call the heart of Sylvain has made me one who cannot feel pity or pain."

"That ain't actually all that different from before." Duck yells.

Lay down your weapon, deviant, and I might let him live.”

“Keep to the plan my love. I will be alright.” Indrid croaks in a way that make the words an immediate lie, one hand struggling with the oozing white mass on his wrists. 

“Let him go and fight me yourself.”

“I shall. Just as soon as I snap his neck. I will make an example of you both, of what should happen to those who defy the natural order of things. I will make you suffer in ways you cannot imagine.”

“You..talk...too...much.” There’s a glimmer of red in Indrids hand, and Duck sees his new plan take shape. He hoists Beacon like a javelin, ignoring the sword’s protests of being handled so incorrectly. 

Indrid winks at him. And puts on his glasses. 

Gregor tries to tighten his hold, but by the time he sees what’s happening, Indrid has slipped from his grasp and is falling. Launches Beacon as soon as Indrid is free, and there’s a howl of rage as the blade connects with Gregor's chest, sending him into a free-fall. 

There’s a crunch as Indrid hits the briar, and a squelching thud as Gregor hits the ground, dead well before his landing. Duck is already running to where Indrid fell when a tan arm covered in scratches waves him away.

“Crystal, ow, first, ow.”

Duck hesitates, then wrenches Beacon from Gregor's chest. In two strides he’s at the sickly white crystal and with all his might he stabs the blade into the center. 

There’s a _crack_ and he’s thrown to the edge of the clearing, catching stray thorns in his clothing and on his cheeks. They burn, but he hardly notices as the veins of white in the earth flicker and then disappear.

“Thank fuck.” He collapses, turns his head and finds Indrid halfway out of the bushes, wincing with each motion. There’s a squeak of pain and then he’s fully free. Duck half crawls, half runs to him, cupping his face as gently as he can.

“Are you okay, fuck, shit, that’s a no because you’re bleedin all over. Don’t worry sugar, I’ll get us out of here, get you all patched up, holy fuckin shit I was so scared I was gonna lose you, I don’t know what I’d do if he’d killed you, I, I just-”

Indrid kisses him, smiles even as he murmurs, “ow” at the contact.

“Much of this is from surface wounds, so it is not as bad as it first appears. And I fear it is not yet time to rest. We are running out of time to return home and help prevent the conflict brewing there. We’ll need to fly once more.”

“Are you sure you’ll-”

“Be able to manage? Just barely, yes.” He removes his glasses, tests his wings, the feathers torn but the muscles working “come along, my love. Let’s save our home. Again.”  
\-----------------------------------  
“For the last time, we cannot allow you to come further, for the safety of all of us.” Janelle crosses her arms, standing just behind the barrier. Out of view of the townspeople, Stern, Hollis, Jake, and Barclay watch with rising worry. Even the return of Mama and the others has done little to set aside the fear that the tension in the cave will boil over and burn them all.

“We demand entry, after all we have done-” 

“You sure you wanna start talkin about what you’ve done?” Mama appears beside her, glaring at the councilman who spoke. There are gasps from the crowd.

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t run off after y’all sacrificed Thacker. I came in after him. Just cause most of you are cowards don’t mean I had to be too.”

“You, you’ve allied yourselves with these beasts?” Lord Falwell stammers. Several guards reach for their weapons, stealing glances at Mama as they do.

“Hey, watch it on the beasts stuff. It’s getting real fucking old.” Barclay steps beside Mama, drawing up to his full height. The guards retract their weapons. 

Stern smirks; only a truly ignorant person would think Barclay was the more dangerous of those two. 

“Look, Janelle’s been over and over and over this with you: we can give you some space to rest, and I can bring you food. But you can’t come any further. We’re all too aware of how dangerous you can be.” Barclay crosses his arms.

“That’s absurd!” Lord Falwell addresses the crowd, “These monsters have taken and taken from us. They have consumed our sons and daughters and this is the thanks they give us.”

An angry murmur bubbles from the crowd. Stern bites his lip, and trades a questioning look with Hollis. 

They sigh, “yeah, fuck it, let’s do this.” 

They step into the brightly lit cavern as Stern says, “Contrary to your blustering statements, no one has actually been consumed.”

More gasps, some of excitement and hope, as Stern stands next to his boyfriend. 

Barclay grins, rests an arm around his shoulders, “I mean, I suppose we should be a little grateful for sending so many excellent people out way.” He kisses the top of Sterns head. The gasps this time are scandalized, and Lord Falwell looks ready to faint.

“This, you’re, my fair citizens, this is clearly some form of trick or manipulation. They have spared a few of our loved ones to pretend they are not as bloodthirsty as they truly are.” He gestures to Stern and Hollis just as Aubrey emerges hand in hand with Dani, “Brothers and sisters, surely you see how you have been tricked. Be-spelled even. We have grieved you, missed you. Won’t you join us in pushing out these terrible aggressors, those who have trapped you so?”

Aubrey laughs and every torch, candle, and crystal flares, “Seriously? You want me to leave my super-awesome wife and all my friends to come back to a place where you lay down rules about who I love or how I look? Under threat of painful death? Oh yeah, sure, let me just pack up my stuff.” She raises her hand in rude gesture. Dani kisses her cheek. 

“Gonna pass on that one too.” Hollis winks at Jake.

“Yes, I think you’ll find we, and all the other sacrifices who chose to remain here, and perfectly happy. But more than that, kindly cut the bullshit, your lordship. I know for a fact you and your ilk celebrated and relished the threat of sending us to what you thought was our doom. I remember the comments you made while I sat, chained and terrified, and the way you laughed when I struggled in fear when the monster appeared.”

“Sorry again.” Barclay mumbles. Stern squeezes his hand. 

“Joseph has a point. How many of you heard people who were a little too pleased that their neighbors were getting eaten?” Aubrey asks.

Many hands raise in the air. 

“And how many of you made comments or jokes like that yourselves?”

All the hands drop. Mama clears her throat, levels the crowd with an expectant look. 

Multiple hands are lifted, many accompanied by faces filled with shame. 

“We have a home now, full of people who care about and understand us. Can’t you just, like, let us have that?”

Stern watches as people being nodding, looking at each other and at the path leading from the cave. 

“Brothers and sisters, even if we were mislead about the fate of the sacrifices, Sylvain is still a threat. They have destroyed our towns with their earthquakes. We have a right to claim their home as repayment for the one they took from us.”

“Yeah, about that.” Drawls a voice from the back of the crowd. People scramble to the walls as Duck moves towards the barrier, a battered Indrid clearing space with his wings. 

Duck approaches Lord Falwell, tosses a dull, pale pair of shards at his feet, “Found that out in the woods. The White Roses were usin it to poison Sylvain. You were gonna kill all of us, let an entire land die, just so you could play at bein’ high and mighty, just so you could play the victim while we suffered.” He holds his head high and Falwell shrinks under his gaze, “You’re a coward, Falwell. Your son was too. And you can either start ownin up to just how fuckin awful you been, of I’ll drag you out of here myself.”

“Is that all true?” Asks a woman in the crowd.

“No, no, of course not. Sylvain is, is a, an important part of maintaining order. We would never attack it.”

“How is he a worse liar than you?” Indrid cocks his head. 

“He’s shit at coverin his own ass too.” 

There’s a shriek of surprise as Boyd and Ned walk into view, arm in arm. Boyd blows a puff of smoke in the direction of the noise, making Ned snicker. 

“See, while I was locked up, overheard his lordship here talkin about how they had to send me and the others in to get to the heart at it’s source, because the poison they’d set wasn’t workin fast enough.”

Grumbling as more and more people put distance between themselves and the councilmen.

“You’d take the word of a thief over mine?” 

“Look,” Boyd examines his claws, “This place turned me into some sort of dragon thing, and I’d still rather stay here than live under you. That oughta tell the rest of you what you need to know.”

“But what about town?” Asks an older man. 

“We can rebuild it, just like we can rebuild the parts of Sylvain that were damaged by all this. Y’all, there ain’t any reason why we can’t coexist. And y’all could learn a lot from how they do things in Sylvain, not to mention plenty of us livin here would like to be able to work or visit town again. Please, just,” Duck looks at Indrid, holding out his hand so the Sylph can take it, “for once in your lives, let somethin other than fear be the thing that guides your actions. Makin that choice was what brought me the best thing to ever happen to me."

Indrid purrs, gently, and presses their foreheads together. Behind Duck, someone cheers their assent, then another voice joins them, then another, and soon most of those gathered are calling for peace. 

“This is _absurd_.” Lord Falwell spits, “They a monsters, deviants, every last one of them, they must be destroyed if our way of life is to survive. Who is with me?” 

The remaining councilmen and two dozen others stand alongside him, several drawing their weapons and stepping towards Duck and Indrid. 

Then, quite suddenly, they’re gone. 

In their place is a cluster of white rose bushes. 

The cave is dead silent until Aubrey clears her throat, “So, uh, full disclosure: I was only trying to shut their mouths up with thorns, not make them into plants. Guess the whole 'currently harboring a god' thing is making my powers a little, uh, extra powerful.”

“Also makes your kisses tingly.” Dani whispers. 

“Well, now that those dipshits aren’t gonna try anythin, do you think we’re safe to lower the barrier?” Mama looks to Indrid and Janelle, who both nod. 

There’s a hint of orange, sparkling light in the air as the barrier dissolves, Sylphs and humans alike taking tentative steps forward. 

Well, most of them do. Juno Divine nearly knocks Duck until the floor in a hug.

“I’m so fuckin happy your alive.” 

“Me too. Uh, dunno if it’s of interest, but Thacker’s still here in Sylvain. Thought you might like to talk to him about taken over his work back in Kepler.”

Juno beams with excitement as a solid hand, now with blue markings, thwaps Ducks shoulder.

“You have done well, Duck Newton.”

“Uh, thanks, Minerva. Didn’t do too bad yourself.” He elbows her playfully. It’s like elbowing a brick wall. 

“I do believe the prophecy was misread when you were born.”

“No shit, I kept tellin y’all I wasn’t not chosen one.”

“On the contrary: you are very much a chosen one. But you were chosen to help save Kepler in a way we did not foresee, being focused as we were on training you as a warrior. On the subject of which, I must go compliment Madeline Cobb on her skill in battle. I did not get the chance to do so earlier.”

Duck chuckles, waves goodbye. 

“Duck?” 

His heart does so many things at the sound of that voice. And none of them prepare him to turn and find his parents and Jane staring at him.

“Hey.” He waves awkwardly. What is he supposed to say? 

_So, yeah, I’m not dead._

_So, uh, this is the love of my life. Yes, he’s also monster_

“Surprise?” 

Jane is to him first, throwing herself into his arms. His new strength lets him catch and hold her (taking care not to catch her clothes with his new claws) as she sobs happy tears against him. His parents embrace them both, and he hears his mother trying to express joy through her choked tears, his father trying to apologize, his own voice saying it’s alright, he never blamed them, he knows why they couldn’t risk saving him, he loves them.

When they disentangle, wiping their eyes, Indrid is waiting patiently behind him.

“I’d, uh, I’d like y’all to meet Indrid. He’s my, well, guess you’d call him boyfriend. ‘Drid, this is my family.”

The Sylph bows, “An honor.” 

All three nod, a bit wide-eyed.

Indrid chuckles, “It’s alright, I imagine this is a bit of a surprise. Indeed, I myself did not initially see it coming, which as you might come to learn, is a rare occurrence for me.”

Jane glances between her parents, then grins, “I’m just surprised Duck managed to land a boyfriend. He’s a such a dork.”

“Hey!” Duck laughs as Jane giggles, sticking her tongue out at him.

“You know, it’s funny that you all keep using that term. Timely, too. You see, in spite of spending time among humans, there are a few customs on which I could use advice. For instance,” he takes Ducks hand, smile brighter than the heart of Sylvain herself, “I wish to know how one ceases being a boyfriend and becomes a fiance.”


	14. Come with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stern gets off work. Duck gets off another way.

The fall light filters through the windows of Kepler city hall. 

Joseph Stern, recently appointed head of the city council, closes the book of proposals he’s reading through and shuts the building for the day. 

He buttons up his jacket as he walks the road towards home. Kepler is mostly rebuilt from the earthquakes, with some improvements. No more statues of white roses, for one, and more clear paths to the main entrance to Sylvain for another. 

He nods to Minerva and Mama, seated on one of the few guard walls stationed throughout town. The two women have been working together to develop the best methods for keeping Kepler and Sylvain safe, and to help with any bumps that come with greater contact between the two societies. 

The white oaks have golden leaves this time of year, and they float down to crunch beneath his feet. Ruby-glow vines twine around a wooden post at the front of the entrance to his home. Nailed to the post that once held chains is a simple sign, that reads “welcome” in two languages. 

Once through the main entrance tunnels, he spots Juno and Thacker finishing their work for the day, overhears the young woman catching her mentor up on the progress of restoring his old farm for her new home. 

A burst of flame flashes in his periphery; Aubrey, demonstrating for a class of human and Sylph students, many of who ooh and ahh appreciatively. Dani watches from a safe distance, Dr. Harris Bonkers on her shoulders, but the love on her face could be seen from miles away. 

Barclay is no doubt already at the restaurant, and as Stern reaches the door of their home he contemplates turning down the nearby tunnels and asking if Indrid and Duck would like to join him for dinner. 

Then he remembers his own first week as a newlywed, and shakes his head with a smile. No, it’s best to leave them in peace. There will be many nights more where they sit among friends and watch the stars come out. Right now, they most likely want their privacy.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
“Well, well, well. Look what I caught.” Duck grins, drags his claws through the dark feathers beneath him. Indrid’s wings are open, strapped down against the pillows with silver ribbon. His lower hands are free, but his upper set are trapped above his head in green rope secured to the floor. 

“I am not entirely sure this counts as catching anything, given that I submitted willingly.”

“That’s true. Spread your wings so fuckin fast you knocked over the weather globe, and your legs even faster.”

“It could not be helped. How else should I respond when my husband says he wishes to use every tool at his disposal to help me fuck him?”

Duck smirks, dims the lights so he can see the flashes of light purple coursing along Indrid's feathers. And the bright green ones racing along his fingers. They’d been rather shocked, upon visiting the dark meadow after saving Sylvain, to discover Duck now had some glowing markings of his own.

“You sure these are alright?” Duck secures two golden loops of chain onto Indrids mandibles. 

“Everything in that chest is something I enjoy, my sweet. And if something becomes too much, I will tell you.” Indrid flicks his tongue out to lick Duck’s cheek fondly. Duck sits back, straddles Indrids thighs as he contemplates his next move. Indrid's glowing eyes are heavy-lidded, and Duck can feel his purr, rumbling up his legs and teasing his cock. 

Indrid’s cock, however, is barely hard. That will have to change. Duck lifts a small, black and gold stone wand, and taps it twice. It starts vibrating in his palm.

“Oooooh” Indrid wiggles excitedly, then arches sharply off the bed when Duck drags it down his cock. 

“That’s it sugar. Gotta get you nice and hard so you can serve your purpose.”

“Yessss, oh yes.” Indrid tilts his hips in time with Duck’s strokes. He bends forward, kissing along Indrid's lower belly before biting down. His sharper teeth allow him to actually reach skin, rather than simply swallowing fluff. Indrid shrieks, and his free hands rest on Ducks head, urging him on. Duck makes a path of bites from his belly down to just above his cock, notices Indrid's cock pulsing faster the harder he sucks. 

“More, please my sweet” Indrid pets his shoulder haphazardly. 

Duck sits up, and presses the wand against the tip of Indrid's cock, earning him a breathy trill. 

“I, oh, oh goodness, I’m going to finish very quickly if, ahAhhhh, you keep doing that.”

“That’s the plan, darlin. You gotta come at least three times before you get to come in me.”

Indrid purrs, hips moving faster, and Duck dips down to lick the silvery liquid as it trails down his shaft.

“You, you will want to move if you wish to keep that promise.”

Duck stays put, shuts his eyes as he rubs the wand in fast circles. Indrid chirrs, and then sticky warmth splatters up his neck and cheeks. 

“Said 'in' not ‘on.’” Besides, know you like seein your come on me. Let’s you know I’m yours.”

Indrid nods, panting. Duck climbs off him, rolls to the edge of the nest to retrieve the serpentstone toy and the bottle of oil from atop the chest.

“I opened myself up a bit already on account of gettin home first.” He straddles Indrid's middle, but when the Sylph extends a hand for the toy he yanks it out of reach, “uh uh, not yet. I’m gonna fuck myself with this, get ready to take that fuckin perfect cock, make it so you can remind me exactly who I belong to . You’re gonna make yourself come again.”

“But, I thought, my hands-”

“Left ‘em untied so you could jerk it. If you come before I’m done gettin ready, I let you have the honor of finishin the job.”

Indrid is frantically working both hands over his cock before Duck finishes his thought. He chuckles, pours oil onto the toy, and makes a show of loudly moaning as he pushes it in. 

Indrid whimpers, “Duck, please, I have two hands free, I can use one on you and one on myself. You know I can make you feel incredible.” 

Duck shakes his head, fucks himself more forcefully, laughs when Indrids eyes go wide with panicked arousal.

“Seems like you’re enjoyin the show.”

Indrid chirrs in mock-annoyance, hands moving in rapid, twisting strokes. 

“Damn, fuck, this feels so good, it'll feel even better when it’s you.”

Indrid trills again, and Duck turns his head in time to see him come. The Sylphs hands tentatively rest on Duck’s thighs, awaiting permission to touch him. Duck rests his forearms on Indirds chest, kissing the down, and nods.

Then he yelps into the feathers as Indrid jams the toy all the way in.

“That’s it my love, let me hear just how good I can make you feel.” 

Duck moans louder, bites and sucks at Indrids chest and neck. Drops his hips down, grinding against his feathery bulk as he fucks him. He almost changes his plans, opts to come now and make a mess of Indrid’s feathers. 

But he has other plans.

“That’s, fuck_fuck_, enough sugar.” 

Indrid stops instantly, sets the toy aside, and lays his hands flat against the bed. 

Duck grins, “You peekin at the futures?”

“Not intentionally, but what you are about to do floated through my minds eye.”

“You like it?”

“Yes.” It’s more purr than word, Indirds hands flexing in anticipation.

Duck reaches for the golden ribbons he anchored to the floor earlier, secures Indrids wrists carefully, the way the Sylph taught him. 

“Now” he crawls to straddle Indrid's neck, “I got a theory I been meanin to test. You get so fuckin wild when you suck my cock, I wanna see if you can come just from that.”

“I, I doubt that is possible but I am certainly eager to try.”

Duck lifts a leather gag with a large, silver ring at the center. Indrid parts his lips and his mandibles, lifts his head slightly so Duck can secure it around his head, ring keeping his mouth open. He scooches a few more inches, then grabs hold of the loops of chain on each mandible and pulls. The chains help not only keep them open, but control Indrid’s head enough to slide his cock through the silver ring and into his waiting mouth.

“Holy shit.” He groans, pushing all the way in, moisture already beading at the corners of Indrids mouth and eyes as he thrusts experimentally. 

“Damn, not as tight as when you’re human, but holy fuckin hells does it feel good to fuck your throat like this.”

Indrid purrs louder, tongue plaintively stroking the underside of his cock. 

“Gotta say, you look real good like this. Big, scary monster with claws and fangs and shit, and you can’t do anythin with ‘em. All you can do is fuckin take it.” He jams his hips forward and Indrid trills, antennae going straight up before folding back submissively. Duck takes that as his cue, fucks Indrids throat as violently as he dares, shuts his eyes and savors the wet, delighted chirps that spill out around his cock. 

A repetitive flap of feather on silk tells him Indrid's wings are shuddering, and when he peeks to see the purple light streaking along them he also notices Indrid’s cock is hard. And that one of his lower hands is twisting in circles within its bond. Small bursts of gold light move up and down his cock in time with the motions of his hand.

“Usin a spell is cheatin, and if you get off that way I ain’t gonna let you come in me at all tonight.”

Indrid chirrs, eyes wide and pleading, and his hand stills. Duck growls, baring his fangs, “Much better.”

Indrid’s wings shudder harder.

“You like it when I do that?”

A faint nod.

Duck growls again, pulls Indrids head flush against him, keeps growling in short, sharp breaths as he pumps his hips shallowly, the friction building and enhanced by Indrids constant purrs. He comes with a low moan, tugs the chains once more for good measure before releasing the Sylph and undoing his gag.

“Mmmmmm” Indrid’s tongue sneaks out to lick his palm, “That was exquisite.”

“No fuckin kiddin.” Duck strokes the fluff of Indrids cheek, soaking up the blissful smile on his face, “Y’know, that felt so fuckin good, put me in a kinda generous mood.”

Indrid chirps hopefully. 

“Yeah, you don’t gotta come one more time before you fuck me. Lemme get you outta these.” He starts with the bonds on his hands, moves on to the ones on his wings. Massages dark-feathered wrists as Indrid sits shakily up.

“You need a break at all?” He kisses the edge of one wing as he shifts into Indrid's lap.

“Not in the least. And if I am not inside you soon, I will collapse from want.”

“Better get to it then, sugar.”

Indrid puffs up slightly, “With pleasure.”

He lifts Duck easily, takes his time pulling him down onto his cock. It pulses and pushes, and Duck sighs, rests his cheek against Indrids chest and slowly drags his fingers through the sensitive bands of his wings. 

“Oh yes, oh my sweet little human, you feel so good, thank you for allowing me the pleasure of fucking you.”

“Any time, darlin.” Duck murmurs, wiggles his hips lazily just to hear Indrid growl hungrily. 

“May I use you hard, my love?”

Duck adjusts his hold, “Uh huhAH!fuck” Indrids lower hands grip his hips as he fucks up into him, his upper ones roving across Ducks skin, the Sylph chirping and trilling ecstatically. Duck tugs on the most sensitive patch of feathers, and Indrid curses in Sylph, cumming inside him with broken, whimpering moan. 

He pulls out, but keeps his arms around Duck, his wings slowly wrapping around to join them. 

“That was wonderful, my sweet.” Indrid nuzzles his cheek. 

“Glad, glad to hear it. Fuck, can’t feel my damn legs.” 

“Mmmm, I shall rub them in a moment.”

“Nope, first you’re gonna let me groom your feathers all nice.” Duck hugs him tighter, causing another chirp to fill the room. Then he pulls away, hopping off the bed to retrieve the supplies he needs to look after his husband. As he works the oil through Indrid’s feathers, they discuss the replanting he’s doing in the nearby woods, and Indrid’s visions of them having a rather pleasant evening out tomorrow with Stern, Aubrey, and Dani, as the last bit of daylight fades from the weather globe.

And so their story ends, as stories so often do, with a pair of lovers, a kiss goodnight, and a happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! It was a lot of fun expanding this story.
> 
> Next up will be the next entry into the "Falling" universe, followed by the Revers!AU that was requested.


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